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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27876282">Memoir of a Seeker</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuppyBot/pseuds/GuppyBot'>GuppyBot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Action/Adventure, Alien Culture, Assassination Attempt(s), Attempted Murder, Awkward Sexual Situations, Blood and Gore, Coming of Age, Cybertronian Culture (Transformers), Cybertronian Politics (Transformers), Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Energon (Transformers), Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Forced Prostitution, High-Grade Energon (Transformers), Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kaon City, Platonic Relationships, Post-War Cybertronian AU, Pre-Earth Transformers, Pre-War Cybertronian AU, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Seeker Trines, The Pits of Kaon City, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (IDW), Transformer Sparklings, Transformers Spark Bonds, Underage Drinking, Vos City, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:40:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>95,875</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27876282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuppyBot/pseuds/GuppyBot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Facing trial and the likely end of his life, Starscream accepts the offer to tell the story of his life in a last attempt to sway the sparks of the jury in his favor. The overthrown leader of Cybertron reflects on his tumultuous past, beginning with the night he was left on the steps of the Academy as a newborn sparkling, to the night he took command of the Decepticon seekers in the birth of a vicious civil war, and the journey that led him to become the leader of his people. Starscream may be a gifted valedictorian, a groundbreaking scientist, a fearless commander, and a god to his followers, but, as he realizes through his story, he has also been a friend, a lover, and an enemy of many.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jetfire | Skyfire/Starscream (Transformers), Megatron/Starscream (Transformers), Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker (Transformers)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Cell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There's going to be quite a few chapters for this one. Please follow my twitter @gupybot for updates! On my twitter, you will find art that corresponds to the story, drawn by yours truly :)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Awaiting trial, Starscream is visited by Thundercracker and Skywarp, who offer him a chance to possibly escape the inevitable: write a memoir.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Units of Measurement<br/>Astrosecond - .498 seconds<br/>Nano-kilk - 1 second<br/>Kilk - 1.5 minutes<br/>Breem - 8.3 minutes<br/>Groon - 1 hour<br/>Cycle - 1.25 hours<br/>Solar Cycle - 1 day<br/>Mega-Cycle - 93 hours<br/>Decacycle - 3 weeks<br/>Stellar Cycle - 7.5 months<br/>Vorn - 83 years<br/>Century - 150 years</p><p>Anatomy<br/>Brain Module/Processor - Brain<br/>Helm - Head<br/>Audio Receptors/Audials - Ears<br/>Olfactory Sensor - Nose<br/>Optical Ridge - Eyebrow<br/>Optics - Eyes<br/>Denta/Dentas - Teeth<br/>Glossa - Tongue<br/>Chassi - Chest<br/>Servos - Hands<br/>Digits - Fingers<br/>Aft - Butt<br/>Pede - Foot<br/>Tanks - Stomach<br/>Vents - Lungs/Fans/Vents/Grill<br/>Spark - Heart + Soul<br/>T-Cog - cog that allows transformation between alt-mode and root-mode<br/>Alt-Mode - car/plane/jet/tank/etc form</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div><p> </p>
<p></p></div><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p></div><p>Starscream was absolutely <em> freezing </em>. He had completely forgotten just how cold Luna 1 Moon Base became in the second half of the Stellar Cycle.</p><p>Before the war, this moon had been his fortress, his base, the castle from which he once commanded the seekers, an elite race of airborne Cybertronians, fearless and terrifying in their animalistic nature. Now, it was a skeleton of what it once was. Damaged, neglected, and long forgotten, as well as his seekers.</p><p>The ending of the war marked what felt to Starscream as his second birth. Being elected ruler of Cybertron was his fruition, all that he had worked for. It had taken him eight million years, but he had done it.</p><p>Now, facing trial and stripped of his title, Starscream truly had nothing. There was no denying it. During the war, he always had the Decepticons to have his back. Being locked in a cell used to be a mere trifle. All he had to do was kill time until the walls were blown in and he was escorted to safety by his seekers.</p><p>No one was coming for him now.</p><p>The cell he lay in truly was a cage. He only had the room to lay down and walk in small circles. The only entertainment he received was his memories, as well as the small conversations he held with the guards that delivered his energon. Not that those conversations mattered. They weren’t anyone he could use in his favor. They didn’t have any connections. As the Decacycles passed, Starscream began to realize with a heavy spark that this cell was likely to be his last home.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Starscream lay upon the berth of his cell, rolling a pebble between his claws. His mind was serene, utterly empty of thought. The isolation reminded him of the oceans he had seen on Earth, undisturbed and peaceful. Truly, he preferred to be alone.</p><p>His optics began to dim. A recharge felt so inviting in the silence…</p><p>“Let <em> go </em> of me! Do you even know who I <em> am </em>?!”</p><p>Starscream bolted upright. He hadn’t heard this much commotion in ages.</p><p>“Just <em> shut </em>up,” a stern voice snapped. Starscream knew that voice.</p><p>“Prowl?” he murmured, walking to the edge of the cell and straining to get a better look.</p><p>The voices grew closer. “Your evidence is scrap! You have nothing on me. I’ll be out of here in a nanocycle!” A green and black seeker was shoved into the hallway before Starscream and Prowl wrenched him into a cell.</p><p>“Let <em> go </em>!” The seeker shrieked, attempting, and failing, to claw at Prowl’s optics.</p><p>Prowl smirked and twisted the seeker’s wing. It wailed in pain, yanking away from the assault.</p><p>Starscream’s spark flared. “Don’t you <em> dare </em>touch my seeker like that!”</p><p>Prowl shut the cell door behind him as he walked out, taking a moment to glance at Starscream’s bared fangs. “<em> Your </em>seeker?”</p><p>Starscream scowled and stepped back from the bars. Yes, he had been stripped of his title, but surely the seekers knew who their <em> real </em>ruler was?</p><p>Prowl scoffed and waved a hand dismissively as he walked away from the cell block. “Enjoy your new friend. He’ll be your last.”</p><p>Starscream didn’t want to chat, and neither did the seeker. They were both exhausted. Being in a cell had to be one of the most draining forms of torture for an airborne mech.</p><p>The seeker lay upon the berth, dragging the thermoblanket up to his chin. “Good to see you again, Starscream.”</p><p>Starscream merely nodded, retreating to his berth as well.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>“Star? Star, wake up.”</p><p>Starscream scowled, his recharge disturbed. “Leave me.”</p><p>“Star, it’s me.”<br/>
Starscream recognized the voice. He looked back. Skywarp and Thundercracker stood outside the cell, much to his surprise.</p><p>“What?” Starscream scrambled from the berth, stumbling to the bars and grasping at his trine’s servos. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>Thundercracker clutched his servo tightly, his optics full of concern. “We came back from Earth as soon as we heard. What happened?”<br/>
Starscream rolled his optics. “I’m being accused of <em>treason</em>. A mess, really. I have no idea where they got <em>that </em>idea.”</p><p>Skywarp chuckled. “Treason? Man, you’re really screwed.”</p><p>Thundercracker shot the purple seeker an unappreciative glare. “We <em> came </em> here to help you with the trial. I was able to talk Optimus into letting you have <em> this </em>.” He pulled out a datapad and placed it in Starscream’s servo.</p><p>Starscream frowned. “What am I supposed to do with a <em> blank </em>datapad?” </p><p>“It may help save your <em> life </em>, you jerk,” Skywarp grumbled. “You’re welcome.”</p><p>Thundercracker pushed Skywarp away. “What he <em> means </em>to say is we thought that this datapad could be your saving grace. If the public knew your life story, they might see a personal side of you that will counter their vote to, well…”</p><p>“Off ya,” Skywarp smiled, crossing his arms.</p><p>Starscream’s optical ridge cocked. “You want me to write a <em> memoir </em> in the hopes that <em> maybe </em> I won’t be killed?”</p><p>“It’ll help the people of Cybertron to see the <em> real </em>you!” Thundercracker reassured. “They’ll see that you’re a normal mech, just like them.</p><p>Starscream’s lips curled into a smile. “But I’m not a normal mech.”</p><p>Thundercracker sighed, clearly growing desperate. “<em> Please </em>, Starscream! Won’t you give it a shot?”</p><p>Starscream looked down at the datapad and shrugged.</p><p>Skywarp huffed, taking Thundercracker’s hand. “We’ve done all we can do. Even in prison, he’s just a spoiled little bot.”</p><p>Starscream’s optics dimmed. He didn’t want to show weakness, but he also didn’t want his trine to leave. Would this be their last meeting? What would happen to their spark bond if he was executed?</p><p>Much too soon for his spark to handle, Starscream watched as his trine left him.</p><p>“Thank you,” he whispered. But they were already gone.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Several cycles later, Starscream still had yet to write a single word in his data pad. What could he say? Every time he tried to think of his life’s story, it came out as some kind of grandeur speech. Thundercracker had told him to let Cybertron see the <em> real </em> him, but even facing death, Starscream saw himself as he always had: the chosen one. Why should a mech like Starscream <em> stoop </em> to the level of a jury? Who were they to decide his fate when an ancient <em> Metrotitan </em>had crowned him leader of all Cybertronians?</p><p>Still, he didn’t want to die.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p>It was the wee hours of the night when his neighbor finally spoke.</p><p>“You’re in quite the doozy,” he said.</p><p>Starscream huffed, the sharpening of his claws on adamantine bars distrubed.</p><p>When he received no reply, the seeker continued, “Before they finally nailed me, I saw you on the news. Cybertron wants your head on a spike.”<br/>
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Starscream growled.</p><p>His neighbor laughed. “No, I’m serious! They’re holding rallies down there. Mechs are protesting. They <em> really </em> want you dead. What the slag did you <em> do </em>to piss them off so badly?”</p><p>Starscream ran a claw against the bar so roughly that sparks flew. “Will you be <em> quiet </em>?!”</p><p>“You know what I think?” his neighbor pressed on, “I don’t think you’re mad at me. I think you’re <em> scared </em> . You’re scared because I’m telling you the <em> truth </em>.”</p><p>“<em> Shut </em>up!” Starscream hissed, rising to his pedes. His wings hitched upward, a defensive reflex.</p><p>His neighbor scoffed, slowly sitting up from the floor. “You’re in no position to demand <em> anything </em> . You’re about to be killed. Besides, is that any way to treat one of <em> your </em> seekers?”</p><p>Starscream’s wings relaxed, but he was unwilling to admit the sliver of guilt that shot through his spark. “They <em> used </em>to be my seekers,” he murmured.</p><p>“They were <em> never </em>yours. I bet you don’t even remember my name.”</p><p>Starscream’s optics remained locked upon his own cobalt pedes. “Of course I do. Your designation is Acid Storm. You served under me in the civil war as my third platoon. You joined my cause right after I assassinated the Senator. Only a few cycles, actually.”<br/>
Acid Storm was quiet, then he huffed. “Lucky guess.”</p><p>“It wasn’t a guess,” Starscream replied. “I always knew my seekers. I knew them and I <em> loved </em>them. Even if I… never let them know that.”</p><p>Acid Storm watched the mech who was once his commander sit down on his berth. There was a time that Acid Storm idolized this little Starscream. He once thought of him as… larger than life, really.</p><p>After a long pause, Acid Storm smiled. “Why don’t I write your memoir for you?”</p><p>“My what?” Starscream blinked.</p><p>“Y’know, for court?” Acid Storm gestured to the air with his hand in no particular direction. “Your life story that will <em> touch the spark </em>of Cybertronians everywhere?”</p><p>Starscream reached back, rubbing grime off his wing. “You don’t even know my story. You only knew me as commander and a prisoner.”</p><p>Acid Storm chuckled, crawling over to the bars between the two cell mates. “I know that, silly! You could tell me your story and I’ll type it out.”<br/>
“I can write my <em>own </em>story, thank you very much.” This was so typical of Starscream, Acid Storm thought, that he would say something so vulnerable and immediately retreat into his facade of indifference.</p><p>Acid Storm smiled gently. “I have the audials of a seeker. You haven’t typed a single word.” His smile faded, his tone deepened. “Commander, your <em> life </em> is on the line here. You’ve clearly messed up <em> real </em>bad. I don’t think you’ll be able to talk your way out of trial. What do you have to lose?”</p><p>Starscream couldn’t think of a rebuttal. Acid Storm continued, his serious tone easing into humor. “If anything, <em> I’ll </em> be doing all the hard work. All you have to do is relive happy memories and tell your story. Even if they kill you, you’ve had a pretty <em> epic </em>life. I know someone out there would love to hear it.”</p><p>Starscream’s eyes met his comrade. “You think it’s all been happy memories?” More of a question than a challenge, it seemed.</p><p>Acid Storm sighed. He could see a glimmer of genuine fear in his commander’s optics. Or perhaps it was simply desperation to live.</p><p>“Please,” Acid Storm whispered, “give it a <em> chance </em>.”</p><p>Starscream said nothing. The pair lay in silence, listening to the buzzing of lights in the hallway and thrusters engaging on ships outside their windows. </p><p>Luna One continued to orbit around Cybertron. Acid Storm watched as night fell upon his home planet. Once in a while, his optics fell to his commander. The crimson red seeker lay on his berth, facing the wall, saying nothing. A faint glow of red on the lead walls told Acid Storm that his former leader was not in recharge.</p><p>Acid Storm had just begun to offline his optics when his commander finally spoke.</p><p>“I was born in the year of the seeker, in the era Quintessa. I am eight million, six hundred thousand years old. I am only seven hundred years younger than the war.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Academy Steps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream is left on the steps of the Academy when he is only minutes old. Jetfire, only a few years older, begins to raise the feisty sparkling.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please follow my Twitter @gupybot for updates! This chapter actually has an illustration drawn by yours truly :) https://twitter.com/lvdr_psns/status/1334757592548089856</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div><p> </p>
<p></p></div><p>I remember how Cybertron was before the war. I even remember the <em> smell </em>. I remember how bright it was. The planet never slept. Towers so high that you had to be airborne to ever see the top floor. Roads so smooth that you swore you were gliding on glass. </p><p>I remember Vos, my home town. It was a seeker’s paradise. We never touched the ground because we never <em> had </em>to. I remember the culture of that city. I remember the theatre and the arts. I never once felt alone. I knew I was home. Always.</p><p>Most of all, I remember the Academy. It was my first and last memory before the war. The Vos Academy of Science. That was where my life began.</p><p>I was left on the steps of the academy when I was only a few kilks old. <em> Kilks </em>. That was how my life began: screaming and crying and begging for shelter. I suppose that’s why I’ve always been a drifter. I adapt to new places well. It’s in my nature.</p><p>Actually, that’s not true. The Academy wasn’t my first memory. <em> Jetfire </em> was. I remember the blue of his optics as he held me. I remember his smile. Primus, that <em> smile </em>. I think the war took away his ability to smile. Mine, too.</p><p>I was so small in his hands. He held me even as I kicked and clawed at the only mech willing to care for me.</p><p>Most sparklings are born gray. Their colors develop in the following cycles of their emergence. Not me. I was vibrant with color, though it was splotchy at the time. It’s said that only three mechs a century emerge with even a dash of color. I began my life in vibrancy, even when I was covered in grime and carrier fluid.</p><p>The academy couldn’t just turn me away, a newborn sparkling in dire need of shelter and energon. They had <em> morals </em>, I suppose. My carrier knew what they were doing when they abandoned me there. I think they knew I would be taken in. At least, I tell myself they knew that.</p><p>So, they raised me. The Academy. It was healthy for me to grow up with variety. I think it taught me to be proud of my seeker biology. After all, no one had seen a seeker quite like me. I was a new form, a new beginning, they said, for all seekers.</p><p>Jetfire was a young mech, only a few stellar cycles older than me. He immediately took a liking to me, and so did I. We took to each other like birds of a feather, or… whatever that <em> Earth </em>saying is. He  wasn’t a seeker, but he was actually the one who taught me to fly. </p><p>I remember the first time I flew. I was <em> terrified </em> . I was only a few cycles old. I can even remember the feel of the crisp air against my face. It made my optics drain. The seekers took me to the top floor of the Academy for my first flight, where you couldn’t even see the ground. They always had a way of… <em> acclimating </em>me.</p><p>“No! No!” I wailed, clinging to Jetfire’s leg like it was a life line. He never laughed at me. He only held my helm and whispered sweet nothings as I begged to go back inside.</p><p>“Stop being <em> ridiculous </em>!” Ember scolded. “A seeker’s nature is to fly. Flight dictates our very form!”</p><p>I said nothing. I’m sure my claws dug into Jetfire’s leg like daggers. They were so short then, so fragile, yet <em> razor </em>sharp from the beginning.</p><p>Ember laughed, folding away the barrier of the balcony. “Don’t be such a <em> sparkling </em> and get over here! Do you want to be a bad mech? Bad mechs can’t play with Jetfire.”</p><p>My optics flooded with fluid, my lip trembling, I gazed up to Jetfire in desperation. “I’m not a bad mech,” I whispered.</p><p>Jetfire smiled, but he wasn’t mocking me. He crouched low, but even in a crouch he was at least a foot taller than me. “I remember my first time flying. I was scared, just like you are. But I knew that the ones teaching me were simply trying to help me learn. They weren’t trying to scare me. They taught me because they <em> loved </em>me. And they love you, too.”</p><p>I took a shaky breath and looked back at my wings. The red accent of my wings had barely finished developing. I didn’t trust them to carry me. I thought they would crumble and fall away, just like my life had begun.</p><p>“You have <em> strong </em>wings, Star.” Jetfire clutched my servo, only as big as his palm. “They’ll take care of you. Always.”</p><p>The vulnerability of his words broke me. I was overwhelmed and I began to cry. He took me in his arms as Ember groaned.</p><p>“Never in my life have I seen a seeker so afraid of flying,” she sighed, flicking a hand in annoyance. “You have nothing to be scared of! Now I know why you’re named Starscream.”</p><p>That pulled me from my trance. I let go of Jetfire. Her words filled me with what I can only describe as confused anger. Why was she stooping to the level of mocking a <em> sparkling </em>? Not only that, but mocking my designation as well! I was confused. If flying was such a beautiful thing, why was she so upset with me?</p><p>“You don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” Jetfire whispered, but I wasn’t listening. I flicked my wings, an involuntary reflex that I now know was to prepare for flight. They were stretching, adjusting, preparing for a previously untouched sensation.</p><p>Ember stepped aside, a wide grin on her face. She was <em> satisfied </em>with herself, and that still bothers me to this day.</p><p>I stepped up to the edge of the balcony where the fence had folded away. I wiped the fluid from my optics. I could no longer take her mockery. I was young, but I knew who I was. I knew my namesake was special. For what? I didn’t quite know.</p><p>“Be careful!” Jetfire cautioned. I could hear his turbines begin to turn. He was always right behind me. Even with something as simple as flying.</p><p>I took one last look up at Ember. She smirked, nodding to the sky before us.</p><p>I was a stubborn little mech. I stepped forward and allowed myself to fall from the balcony.</p><p>A seeker’s initial rush of free fall is hard to describe. In fact, it’s impossible. I just remember the colors that rushed by me. The reflection of lights behind me on my wings. I remember the stars, how they twinkled. They opened their arms to me, beckoning, welcoming. In that moment, we spoke the same language.</p><p>And just like that, my thrusters stuttered and burst to life. Blazing cones of searing blue fire burst from my pedes and I stopped falling. I’m not sure when I looked down, but when I did, the roof of the Academy was shrinking below me.</p><p>I looked back up. The stars were dazzling, dancing together in some kind of musical performance. I knew they had been waiting for me from long before I was created, and I knew they would remain long after my death and wait for my reincarnation among them. I remember seeing my servo reach out, as if I could touch them. Their brilliance glistened on my cobalt arm. I was no longer Cybertronian. I wasn’t even a seeker. The planet below me had vanished, and I understood. I understood that my spark was not my own. I was not a mech. I was simply a specific formation of stardust. But I could not touch them. Jetfire embraced me, laughing nervously as he overpowered my thrusters with the strength of his turbines.</p><p>“You’re not quite ready for <em> space </em> yet, little Star,” he warned. My thrusters disabled and he caught my weight with ease. I watched the stars as we fell.</p><p>Ember was speechless when Jetfire placed me down on the balcony tile. She embraced me, pulling me up to her face and kissed my cheek.</p><p>“Starscream, that was the most powerful<em> , </em> flawless first flight I have <em> ever </em>had the pleasure to witness.”</p><p> </p><p>After that, no one in the Academy doubted my ability to learn. I grew quickly. My claws hardened, my wings widened. Even my optics sharpened. My seeker senses doubled, tripled. Suddenly, I could hear the drop of a pin, smell a drop of energon from across the medic’s office. I didn’t know what to do with all the changes that bombarded my form. I suppose that’s why I began to act out.</p><p> </p><p>“Starscream, get <em> back </em>here!” Cloudblade screeched from across the theatre. Cloudblade was a renowned professor of the Academy, a leader in the development of chemistry, and he couldn’t even handle a little mech who loved to steal his lab equipment.</p><p>I giggled, crawling under the legs of a student. The theatre burst into laughter. As a child of the Academy, there was little they could do to prevent me from interrupting lectures. The students loved the entertainment. The professors <em> hated </em>it. But what could they do? They loved me, too.</p><p>I clutched the mini test tube in my servos. I loved chemistry even at such a young age, being able to experiment with the world and see how it operated, how it <em> breathed </em>.</p><p>Cloudblade marched up the stairs of the theatre, chasing me down. By then, my seeker audials could detect the identity of a mech just by the sound of their steps.</p><p>I squealed in laughter when a student reached down to tickle my wing as I crawled.</p><p>“Would someone <em> stop </em>him already?!” Cloudblade cursed. “Since when is disrupting a class considered funny?”</p><p>My giggles were cut short by snow white servos wrapping around my waist and yanking me up into the air. I dangled from his grasp, flailing about like some kind of Earth kitten.</p><p>“I got him, Cloudblade, Sir,” Jetfire rumbled, hugging me against his chassi as he made his way to the stairwell from his seat.</p><p>Cloudblade sighed, out of breath and blustered. “Finally. Bring him here.”</p><p>I fought against Jetfire’s lead grasp, refusing to let go of the test tube. For a child of study, they were my toys.</p><p>“Star, you can’t keep messing around in classes like this,” Jetfire murmured, jerking the test tube from my digits. I wailed and clawed for it. “I’m finally old enough to be a student here, and I really do want to learn, just like every other student here. Can’t you respect that?”</p><p>“No!” I wailed, much to the amusement of the students. Looking back, I wish Jetfire knew that I was only begging to be let down. I really did respect his education.</p><p>He grimaced and set me down on the stage. I was still wriggling in his servos. “There are times that you just can’t play, Star. Play time can’t happen during class, okay?”</p><p>The class laughed and my cheeks burned. I was so young, but I already falsely believed that I was too <em>old </em>for play time.</p><p>Cloudblade marched towards me and accepted the test tube from Jetfire’s sizable hands. He looked down at me and sighed. “Well?”</p><p>I glared up at the professor, my crimson optics flaring.</p><p>Jetfire reached down and cradled my helm with a gentle touch. “What do you say when you misbehave?”</p><p>I knew what to say. I just didn’t <em> want </em>to. I believed that if I apologized, I would be invalidating my sadness, my embarrassment. I said nothing, but I could not hold a stare for much longer with such an intimidating old mech. I wish I had begun the habit of apologizing much sooner in my life.</p><p>Cloudblade nodded to a chair at the back of the stage, hidden by amethyst curtains. “If you don’t want to verbally apologize, you can take a seat until class is over and practice writing ‘I apologize to Professor Cloudblade’ on my board.”</p><p>Jetfire sighed and nudged my helm. “Star, just <em>apologize</em>, won’t you?”</p><p>“Don’t bother,” Cloudblade said dismissively. “Take a seat, both of you.”</p><p>Jetfire took the time to <em> march </em>me over to the chair at the back of the stage before making his way back to his own.</p><p>At some point, I must have sneaked off. I always did. And Jetfire always hunted me down and brought me back. That was how I learned to write: writing apology after apology on data boards, too stubborn to ever <em> say </em>sorry and be done with it. Interestingly, that was also how I learned to speak the language of Chemistry. I copied the equations of my own accord. I was drawing carbon rings before I could even write my own name.</p><p>By the time I was old enough to sit beside Jetfire as a student of the Academy, I was well above the beginners level of Chemistry.</p><p>That was when I realized Jetfire was not as perfect as I once believed. He was no longer the mech I thought to be all knowing and wise. Suddenly, I was the one teaching <em> him </em>. While the students around us fell into recharge, I was the one reaching over his arm to point out his errors, to guide him through the assignments. I took to chemistry almost as easily as I took to flying.</p><p>At first, learning of Jetfire’s imperfections agitated me. It rocked my perception of reality. But, as time passed, I learned to appreciate it. Now, rather than a guardian, Jetfire was becoming a friend, my <em> best </em>friend.</p><p>We spent all of our time together. When I couldn’t recharge, I knew I could always slip into his berth and fall into recharge in his arms. That was how the next hundred years or so passed. I pity the organics, the humans. Their lives pass so quickly. In a matter of decades, they are considered adults and begin to lose the pigment of their hair. Cybertronians grow slowly. We live long lives. In only one hundred years, I consider my maturity to have been one of an Earthling adolescent. I was new to the world. I knew nothing, even if I acted like I did.</p><p>My studies passed with ease. I was always gifted, even from the very beginning. But although I had no academic challenges, my social weaknesses began to break through to the surface.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Jets and the Planes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream, a gifted student, though socially inept, is taught about Cybertronian reproduction by Jetfire.</p>
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  <p>I sat in the Dean’s office, sandwiched between the Dean and the Academy’s medic.</p>
  <p>“This is hardly a matter of concern, Salvo,” the Dean chuckled, running her digits along the vents of my helm. I leaned into her chassi, enjoying the protective comfort.</p>
  <p>Salvo sighed, obviously annoyed with the Dean’s answer, “With all due respect, it certainly <em> is </em> a matter of concern. By his age, Starscream should have formed a <em> trine </em> by now. His heat cycles are <em> decacycles </em>behind!”</p>
  <p>The Dean stifled a curse. She pulled me closer and I looked up.</p>
  <p>“What’s a heat cycle?” I questioned. I was so innocent, so clueless.</p>
  <p>“Never you mind,” she whispered.</p>
  <p>Salvo scoffed. “Never you mind? Starscream, a heat cycle is a rite of passage for every seeker’s developing modes. It is a <em> mating </em>protocol, and seekers cannot mate without a trine.”</p>
  <p>The Dean raised a digit in protest. “Not <em> another </em>word on this. Starscream has yet to graduate from the Academy. He has millions of years ahead of him to worry about… trines. For now, he needs to focus on his schooling.”</p>
  <p>“What’s a trine?” I pulled myself from the Dean’s grasp, much to her dismay. The medic’s foreign words had taken my interest. Just like the world of flight, this new world intrigued me. After all, it was in my nature.</p>
  <p>Salvo smiled as I inched closer. “Little mech, a trine is a trio of seekers who share a special bond. Their brain modules, their memories, their very <em> sparks </em>become intertwined. Since the beginning of our time, seekers have always been a pack species. We are not meant to live alone.”</p>
  <p>I was confused. I knew I wasn’t alone. I had the Academy. The Academy had me. Right?</p>
  <p>“How do I even <em> get </em>a trine?”</p>
  <p>Salvo rubbed her chin with a digit. I understand her struggle for the right words now. Having to perfectly describe a seeker’s nature is like asking a grounder mech to describe flight. It just can’t be done.</p>
  <p>“Well, little seeker,” the Dean cooed, “when you see your trine, you will <em> know </em> . Your spark will sing and you will know that these mechs were made exactly for <em> you </em> , and that you were made for <em> them </em>. Some seekers wait their whole lives before finding their trine.”</p>
  <p>I paused, I thought over her words and shrugged. I didn’t care about trining, honestly. At the time, it seemed like an emotional waste of time. All I cared about was my studies, my Academy, and, of course, Jetfire.</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>“You want me to <em> what </em>?” he stammered, stabilizing himself on the berth we sat upon in his habsuite.</p>
  <p>“Will you trine with me?” I repeated, growing exacerbated and, quite honestly, embarrassed.</p>
  <p>Jetfire was left speechless for a moment. He gingerly clutched my servo, rubbing a thumb against my palm.</p>
  <p>“Star, I can’t trine with you,” he smiled.</p>
  <p>My optics narrowed. “Why not? You don’t like me?”</p>
  <p>To my annoyance and my surprise, Jetfire burst out in laughter. Again, not in mockery. After a moment of breathless hollering, Jetfire wiped his optics. “Star, I can’t trine with you because I’m not a <em> seeker </em>!”</p>
  <p>I sighed in agitation. Why should that matter? Just that day, the Dean had said a trine would be made of mechs who I held dearly, who I loved. And I loved Jetfire with all of my being.</p>
  <p>“Besides, trines are for… well,” Jetfire trailed off, rubbing his helm sheepishly.</p>
  <p>I pressed on. “For what? What?”</p>
  <p>Jetfire let out a gentle sigh and rubbed my servo. “They’re for mating, Star.”</p>
  <p>My lips pursed. “What is mating?”</p>
  <p>I think the entire dormitory was awoken by Jetfire’s deafening laughter. I erupted in anger, swearing at Jetfire, fumbling on about promising to end his life for embarrassing me this way and other nonsense.</p>
  <p>When his laughter subsided, Jetfire asked me, “What have they been <em> teaching </em> you down there? Oh, Primus! You’re already a hundred years old and you don’t even know what <em> mating </em> is?”</p>
  <p>My face burned. I glared at the floor, my wings lowered in humiliation.</p>
  <p>Jetfire’s face softened. “No, don’t be embarrassed, Star. I’m happy that you feel comfortable enough to ask me about this stuff. Really, I am! Do you want me to teach you about… y’know?”</p>
  <p>After a while, my pride subsided enough for me to nod.</p>
  <p>Jetfire stood, offering a servo in assistance. “Come and sit. I’ll get some energon.”</p>
  <p>I waited in silence at his desk while Jetfire nabbed some energon from the dining hall below us. For the first time in my life, I was unsure of myself. I realized I did not know everything about the world. My love for chemistry and my brash spark had blinded me to the reality of my existence: Life is a learning experience.</p>
  <p>Jetfire returned with two glasses of energon, handing me one of them and taking a seat on his berth. I sat rigidly in his chair, refusing to let my naivety show through. I’m sure it did, anyway.</p>
  <p>Clearing his vocalizer, Jetfire began. “Mating is how new Cybertronians are created, Star. Every mech has two parts, one for giving, and one for receiving. Have you ever noticed them when you’re clearing your tanks?”</p>
  <p>I was already offended. This was going to be a long night. “Yes.”</p>
  <p>Jetfire smiled, gentle as ever. “Those parts have only one use: for giving new life to Cybertron. However, some mechs aren’t gifted the ability to carry new life, and that’s okay! You might have it, or you may not.”</p>
  <p>“Have what?” I was always a curious mech.</p>
  <p>“A carrier module.”</p>
  <p>Now I understood. I let out a sigh of confusion, cupping my face in my servos. “So, I came from a mech who had a carrier module?”</p>
  <p>“Yes, you did. Some mechs are also given life by being gifted a spark <em> after </em>their bodies have been created.”</p>
  <p>That added <em> another </em> layer of confusion to my brain module. “Wait, wait. <em> What </em>?”</p>
  <p>Jetfire pointed upwards. “Do you know Luna Two? Our second moon?”</p>
  <p>I nodded.</p>
  <p>“There are miners up there who collect energon for us. They are Cybertronian just like you and me, but they were created cold, as in, they were <em> given </em>a spark after someone built their bodies.”</p>
  <p>I glanced up to the ceiling, although I could not see out. The idea of being stuck in mines, deprived of flight, disgusted me. Whoever was stuck on that moon must be miserable, I thought.</p>
  <p>If only I had known how right I was.</p>
  <p>“Okay, okay, I understand the whole mating thing.” I did not. “But what about the <em> trining </em>thing? Why can’t I trine with you?”</p>
  <p>Jetfire lay on his side, his wing folding back to make room. “That’s because trining is a <em> seeker </em> behavior. Only seekers can do it. And that includes <em> you </em>.”</p>
  <p>I grimaced. “I don’t even want to trine. I don’t like the students here and I don’t even <em> know </em>anyone outside the Academy.”</p>
  <p>Jetfire grinned. “Well, from what I hear, trining is one of the most intense, stunning experiences a seeker can ever have.” He took a sip from his glass. “Apparently, you don’t even have to know their <em> names </em> to know you’re in love. It’s like your spark just <em> knows </em>. Primus, I wish I had that skill.”</p>
  <p>I frowned. “No one told me it had to do with love.”</p>
  <p>Jetfire sat up, reaching over and taking my servo in his own. “Oh, yes! Love is as important to a seeker as <em>flying</em>! Don’t you know what love is?”</p>
  <p>I gazed into his optics. “I think so.”</p>
  <p>He giggled, his voice deep and rumbling in my cockpit. “I’m so excited for you to finally meet your trine, Star. I think they’ll really help you loosen up. When you came to me as a sparkling, I used to dream about the day that you come home and tell me you’ve found the love of your life. I’d even think about getting you all dressed up for your trining ceremony.”</p>
  <p>“Trining ceremony?”</p>
  <p>He smiled. “Another time.”</p>
  <p>I was so conflicted. According to everyone around me, the new purpose of my life was to find a pair of mechs and <em> immediately </em> fall in love with them? It all seemed, well, a bit <em> romantic </em> . I never understood how I could love any mech other than Jetfire. Certainly, no mech could even come close. How could anyone love another more than the first one who held you, picked the carrier fluid from your vents so you could breathe? Surely, there was <em> no </em>love stronger than that?</p>
  <p>“You should go to recharge, little Star,” Jetfire cooed.</p>
  <p>“Can I recharge here?” I didn’t want to be alone. I was confused, young, and stubborn.</p>
  <p>Jetfire nodded. “Always.”</p>
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  <p>Jetfire sat at his desk, studying for some exam, I’m sure. I lay in the dark in the corner of his dorm, dragging digits along my claws. I listened to the familiar typing of his data pad.</p>
  <p>“Jetfire?” I whispered.</p>
  <p>“Hmm?”</p>
  <p>“What’s a heat cycle?”</p>
  <p>A pause. “When you’re older.”</p>
  <p>I sighed and grabbed the pillow beside me, hugging it tightly. At the time, I had no idea what my life would be. I could never have predicted the violence I would witness, the hatred I would spread. I was simply a student, a mech learning about the world around him, a world that once loved him very, very much.</p>
  <p>And that kind of love terrified me. Or, perhaps, I was terrified of how quickly that love could be crushed.</p>
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  <p>It came in the form of political unrest. Even students weren’t immune to the changing times. I wish I had seen it sooner, the reduction of lab equipment, the progressively outdated textbooks, the increase of student stress.</p>
  <p>Perhaps I could have prevented it. What could I have done? Honestly, I don’t think I could have done anything. But I have always wanted to protect my people. My Academy. My city. Always.</p>
  <p>I’m ashamed to admit it, but I did not leave the Academy grounds until I was stellar cycles away from graduating. Embarrassing, I know, but it is in a seeker’s nature to nest, to retreat.</p>
  <p>I wish my first emergence into the public had been more peaceful. Instead, it came in the form of adolescent angst, I suppose. Just like my first flight, I decided I was ready to see the world in less than an astrosecond.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Fury's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream sneaks out of the Academy to see the world for the first time. Rather than a peaceful night of exploration, Starscream discovers the harsh reality of adult life.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please follow my twitter @gupybot for updates!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<p></p></div><p>Dropping from the dormitory balcony came easy. Spreading my wings and transforming came easy. What did <em> not </em> come easy was the realization of just how <em> busy </em>Cybertron was back then.</p><p>I dipped inches away from colliding airborne mechs. I barely missed grounders whizzing by below me on the freeways. Mechs calling out to no one in particular, begging us to try their products. Massive screens on the sides of Vosnian buildings reminding us of our Senator’s face, to remember it.</p><p>To obey it.</p><p>My attention was pulled to a bar from which I heard music coming from miles away. <em> Fury’s </em>, I think it was called.</p><p>“What’ll you have?” the bartender called as I sat down. I didn’t even know what to do with my hands. I was glued to those around me, watching their faces twist and contort in drunken haze.</p><p>“Well?” the bartender demanded, much closer to me now.</p><p>I blinked, staring absentmindedly. “Oh, well, I….”</p><p>“I’ll make it easy on ya,” he grumbled, pointing to the bottles of energon behind him.</p><p>I didn’t even know they were alcoholic. I shrugged, pointing to a neon pink bottle in the middle. </p><p>The bartender smiled. “Expensive tastes, I see.” Apparently, I had made the right choice. “Five kuid,” he barked as he threw the cube down before me.</p><p>I stammered, overwhelmed by a social interaction I had never had before. I received a small allowance from the school every week, but it had built up as I had never before left the grounds.</p><p>The bartender received my payment and walked away, leaving me with a miniscule cube of pink liquid.</p><p>I was bewildered. Was this really a full energon charge? I thought, maybe, it was a <em> special </em>blend. I raised it to my lips and took a sip.</p><p><em> Ugh! </em>I forced myself to swallow and scowled, the alcoholic blend flooding my systems with HUD warnings. From somewhere in the room, the bartender laughed.</p><p>Was I <em> seriously </em>supposed to enjoy this? Was it even ingestible? I looked around, scanning the other patrons. They seemed happy enough, downing and pouring their own bottles of energon. I turned back to the glass. Its pink hue sickened my tanks, conditioning me already.</p><p>I didn’t want to look out of place. I shut my optics and drank the last of the energon in one swallow.</p><p>“<em> Scrap </em>, kid, you really dig in, don’t you?” the bartender chuckled, returning to my area. “Want another?”</p><p>My tanks were about to purge. I clung to the bar with a vice grip. “Yes.” Another payment received and another cube poured.</p><p>Three cubes later and I was really getting the hang of it! I was also getting quite drunk, but I didn’t even know what drunk <em> was </em>. I didn’t know when to stop, either. And the bartender appreciated that.</p><p>“Another?” He grinned, already holding the neck of the bottle.</p><p>I didn’t reply. He began to pour before I had even sent the payment.</p><p>He walked away and I swallowed another cube full.</p><p>“You really know how to drink, little seeker,” a deep voice thundered behind me.</p><p>I shrugged, my balancing modules glitching. I swayed on the bar stool. “This is easy.”</p><p>The mech sat beside me, taking up all of the space of his stool and more. “Aren’t you a little <em> young </em> to be in a place like this?”</p><p>“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, <em> thank </em>you,” I mumbled, inadvertently balancing myself on the mech’s knee. “Jeez, you sound like Jetfire.”</p><p>A large gray servo was placed over mine. “Jetfire? Is that a… trine member?”</p><p>I scowled, looking up at the mech. His entire form was gray with accents of black. I had never seen such a blocky, massive mech in my life. His helmet, I couldn’t understand. It was so thick, it covered half his helm. Black and yellow tape covered the sides, telling me that he was some kind of trade worker. But, in my drunken haze, I thought he was quite handsome.</p><p>“I don’t have a trine.” I shook my head a little too long. “I’ll never have a trine.”</p><p>This must have pleased him. “Oh? No trine?”</p><p>I shook my head.</p><p>“Then do you have a partner?”</p><p>I was clueless to his words. “Nope. Why do you wanna know, anyway?”</p><p>He grinned and leaned closer. He towered over me by at least three feet. He was even taller than Jetfire, but not by much.</p><p>“I was hoping to take you <em> home </em>, little seeker.”</p><p>I shook my helm, waving a hand. “I know how to get back to the Academy. I’m not a stupid mech, you know. I’m at the <em> top </em> of my <em> class </em> .” <em> Primus </em>, this is embarrassing to remember.</p><p>“I’m sure you are.” The servo moved from my servo to my arm, up to my shoulder. My optics reset and I watched his movement.</p><p>I paused. “What.... What are you doing?”</p><p>“Relax, little one,” he rumbled. I could feel the engine in his wide chest running hard. “Can’t a mech enjoy a beautifully designed seeker?”</p><p>I was getting nervous. I had never experienced anything like this. My digits began to tremble, my wings drooped.</p><p>His servos travelled to my cockpit. “I’ve always loved seekers.”</p><p>Love? My servos clenched into fists as the mech leaned down to my face. He was so close by now that I could smell him. What was that smell? Oil? Mud? No, it was energon. And he had a <em>strong </em>energon odor.</p><p>His hand cupped my face, lifting it to meet his. My optics sharpened. I didn’t want this! I yanked my face away, rubbing where he had touched me. When I pulled my servos away, I saw clumps of dried energon on my claws.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he fumbled. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”</p><p>Suddenly, I was cycles old again, clutching to Jetfire’s leg as he coaxed me into flying. I was scared. No, I wasn’t scared. I was <em> petrified </em>.</p><p>“I… I… have to go. Right now,” I whispered, sliding off the stool. My legs shook from the energon I had so stupidly gulped down. I wanted Jetfire. <em> Now </em>.</p><p>The large mech stood up as well, towering over me. “Please, let me help you.”</p><p>I shook my helm, stumbling to the door.</p><p>He clearly hadn’t taken the hint and he followed me as I shoved past mechs, all much bigger than me.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, growing desperate. “I just didn’t understand why a seeker like you would be in a mining bar like this.”</p><p>I looked back. It all clicked into place now. As I scanned the patrons, I saw the same yellow tape and awkward, rectangular bodies.</p><p>I swallowed hard and shoved my way through the door. Cars flew by at numbing speeds. I could feel the wind blowing harshly on my face as they passed, the air slapping me as if to say, <em> How stupid are you?! </em> The lights shining down in my optics blinded me for a moment. Why had I come here?</p><p>Before I could adjust to the bright lights of Vos, a servo clamped down over my shoulder.</p><p>I yelped, whipping back and shoving the arm away from me with strength I hadn’t previously known I had.</p><p>“Don’t <em> touch </em>me!” I hissed, a tone I hadn’t known before. Now, I know that it was my seeker defenses kicking in.</p><p>The mining mech from the bar drew his arms back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, let me help you. I think you’re a little too drunk to get home on your own.”</p><p>I whimpered, covering my audials with my servos. I was a young mech, way over my head.</p><p>But no sooner had I shrunk to my knees in a shrunken panic attack then Jetfire landed, his pedes slamming against the ground and standing over my crouching body.</p><p>“I’m going to give you <em> one </em> astrosecond to get away from him,” Jetfire boomed, raising a servo to the mining mech. I looked up at him. I had <em> never </em> heard him talk like that. I didn’t even know he <em> could </em>.</p><p>The mech struggled to find the words to defend his case. “I didn’t mean to scare him. He was happy to talk to me at the bar and I-.”</p><p>Jetfire’s optics blazed. “A <em> bar </em> ?! Do you have <em> any </em> idea of how disgusting you are? Picking up underage seekers in a <em> mining bar </em>?” He reached back to me. I took his servo and pulled myself to my pedes.</p><p>The stranger stammered. “I… I didn’t know he was underage, I swear. I backed off when he got… shaken.”</p><p>“You didn’t back off,” I whispered, cradling my pounding helm. “You followed me.”</p><p>Jetfire grabbed my waist and backed away from the mech. Other bots had stopped to watch the stand off. “You should be <em> ashamed </em> of yourself,” he spat. “Disgusting <em> miners </em> . No wonder they keep you locked away on the <em> moon </em>!”</p><p>The miner’s aghast expression turned to anger, but he said nothing. Jetfire’s turbines kicked in and he held me close as we took off into the night sky.</p><p>Neither of us spoke as Jetfire flew back to the Academy. I was in too much pain from the energon and too scared to say anything. What could I say? I had gotten myself into this mess.</p><p>Jetfire landed on the balcony, gentle as ever, even with his massive form. He grabbed my servo and led me inside. I tried to pull away when we passed my hallway, but he held tight until we were locked in his habsuite.</p><p>He picked me up by the waist and placed me on the bed, as if I was light as a feather.</p><p>“Listen to me, Star,” he whispered. “Listen to me. You will experience many things in your life. Many of those things will be good, but some of them will be bad. Those bad things can be very scary, and you need to know how to get yourself out of those situations.”</p><p>I felt fluid building up behind my optics.</p><p>“Look at me.”</p><p>I shook my helm.</p><p>Jetfire cupped my face, forcing me to match his gaze. It pierced my spark to see him so angry with me.</p><p>“I won’t always be around to track you and protect you, Star. I know you’re smarter than this! A <em> mining </em> bar? Seriously, are you that clueless? Do you know what miners do to little seekers like you? You could have <em> died </em>!”</p><p>So young, I did not understand the severity of his words. Fluid began to streak down my cheeks and I let out a pained gasp.</p><p>Jetfire sighed. “Star. Oh, <em> Primus </em>, Star, if something had happened to you…” He let go of my face and began to pace the room.</p><p>My sadness turned to anger as he paced. I didn’t understand why he saw me so <em> helpless </em> . “I can take care of <em> myself </em> , y’know! Nothing even <em> happened </em>!” I hissed, tears falling into my lap.</p><p>“Nothing happened because <em>I </em>showed up, Star!” He bellowed, jabbing a digit into his chassi. “He would have taken you to Primus knows where and <em>split </em>you in half for all we know!”</p><p>I choked on my sobs. Primus, why couldn’t I stop <em>crying</em>? “Don’t call me that!”</p><p>Jetfire blinked, then shook his helm, completely caught off guard. “Don’t call you what?”</p><p>“Star!” I wailed. “I don’t understand why you have to treat me like such a <em> sparkling </em>!”</p><p>“Because you <em> act </em> like one!”</p><p>That was my limit. I let out a wail of anger, confusion, and sadness. “Then how am I supposed to grow up if you keep treating me like some kind of <em> secret </em> ?! If you say I’m going to experience good, scary, bad things in my life, then <em> let </em> me experience them and <em> stop stalking </em> me!” </p><p>Jetfire was astonished by my explosion of emotion. I don’t think he had ever seen me like this.</p><p>“Everyone here treats me like a <em> prisoner </em> !” I continued. “You all say I’m a seeker and I should be free, but I can’t even leave the grounds! You say I’m supposed to trine, but I’m not allowed to <em> meet </em> anyone! Why do you say you <em> love </em> me when you don’t even let me <em> live </em>?!”</p><p>Jetfire didn’t speak. My anger and confusion grew. I wanted him to say something, <em> anything </em>!</p><p>In my rage, I didn’t notice how sick I was getting. Suddenly, it was too much to bear. I cupped my stomach, leaning forward and gasping for breath. Jetfire snapped to reality, dragging a waste bin to my pedes.</p><p>I slid from the berth to my knees before completely retching my tanks empty. At some point, Jetfire covered me with a blanket. I hadn’t noticed my shivers.</p><p>Finally, I was empty. I gasped for air and let my helm fall back. Jetfire slid beside me, pulling me into his lap. All of my rage was spent. Back then, I had so little. I crumbled into a sobbing mess. He covered us both with the blanket and wiped my lips clean.</p><p>“I treat you like a sparkling because you’ll always <em> be </em>a sparkling to me, Starscream,” he whispered.</p><p>To this day, I wish I had never told him to stop calling me Star.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Nightlife</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream is invited to Eclipse Park, a new age "seekers only" nightclub that quickly engrosses Starscream into the nightlife of Cybertron.</p>
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</div><p>After that, I asked the medic to disable my tracking chip, the one Jetfire had used to find me for so many years. Like I had said, I didn’t want to be treated like a sparkling anymore. </p><p>I didn’t just want to prove to Jetfire that I was all “grown up”. I wanted to prove it to myself, too, and it wasn’t long before I continued sneaking out at night. Of course, I avoided the mining bar like the rust plague. For all I cared, I never wanted to meet a miner ever again.</p><p>The Academy, and Jetfire, noticed my comings and goings, but what could they do? I was top of my class, no one could compare to my academic skill. My grades were perfect, my habsuite was clean, and I did my chores. What more can you ask of an adolescent seeker?</p><p>The outings became more adventurous. Sometimes I even traveled as far as Praxus. I’m sure Jetfire thought I was out meeting up with thugs in Kaon, but the majority of my trips took me to just outside Cybertron’s atmosphere, where I could disable my thrusters and enjoy the peace of space. Among the stars, my identity melted away. I was serene, one with the universe.</p><p>Jetfire and I spoke less and less. I was getting lonely, I can’t lie. I missed our conversations, but I was too <em> stubborn </em>to apologize, just like I was as a sparkling.</p><p>I wanted to make <em> friends </em> , but I already knew the students of the Academy. They didn’t <em> do it </em> for me. I needed more. I needed <em> excitement </em>. After my experience in the bar, my life had developed past the point of a naive little mech. There was no turning back. I began asking around, sometimes after classes, if anyone knew where a seeker could have some fun. After a while, the name “Eclipse Park” began to pop up again and again. </p><p>Eclipse Park was the name of a seekers only night club whose motto was “a seeker’s cave”. Right away, I was hooked. The idea of being around my own kind, free of any possibility of grime covered miners trying to take advantage of us was paradise. Eclipse Park was one of those new age clubs, and allegedly, it was <em> painfully </em>expensive. The only hours of operation were midnight to sunrise, and they only opened on what Cybertronians call “absent moon” night, when Luna One and Two orbit on the opposing side of Cybertron, dousing Vos in darkness.</p><p>“You have to dress up when you go, or else they won’t let you in,” Crossfire told me, a fellow seeker who allegedly frequented the place. “I guess it’s a kind of statement, like you’re one of them.” I thought that was absolute bogus. One of them? Weren’t my wings and honed claws enough?</p><p>Jetfire was not an ignorant mech. He knew what I was up to. I’m sure he used to ask the students what they told me, and I’m sure they were happy to rat me out. Sometimes, when I landed on the balcony after a night of juvenile exploration, Jetfire was deep in recharge, leaning against the balcony doors. I’m not sure how long he would wait for me to come home. I tried not to think about it.</p><p> </p><p>I was making my way out of class when Crossfire dashed up to me.</p><p>“It’s time!” He announced giddily.</p><p>“What for?” I readjusted the datapads in my arms.</p><p>Crossfire took one of the datapads to help my balance. “It’s an absent moon! Eclipse Park will be open tonight!”</p><p>My optics widened. I stopped walking and turned to face him. “Are you… Are you sure I’m ready?”</p><p>He chuckled. “Y’know, if you don’t jump, you’ll never soar.” A common seeker phrase.</p><p>“I don’t even have an outfit,” I mumbled as we stepped in the elevator to the dormitories.</p><p>Crossfire shrugged. “I can’t help you there, Screamer. You’ll have to figure something out or you won’t be able to get in. I only have one cape and it’s the one I wear.”</p><p>“A cape? Is that what we’re supposed to wear?”</p><p>He laughed. “What else would we wear?”</p><p>I scowled. I had grown to hate nicknames, and I absolutely <em> despised </em>being treated like an idiot. How was I supposed to know these rules?</p><p>“Do you have enough bits to run to the store and buy something?” Crossfire suggested as we stepped out of the elevator. I shook my helm.</p><p>He helped me carry my datapads to my habsuite. I had a habit of being over prepared for class. The idea of being caught off guard had become a fear of mine.</p><p>“You’re a smart mech,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. I’ll come knock on your door around midnight.”</p><p>The door slid shut behind him when he left. I threw the datapads upon my desk and sat on my berth, my mind racing. What was I to do? I had the perfect opportunity to see the world and I didn’t even have something to wear.</p><p>The idea came to me some hours later as I worked on assignments. The theatre! Surely, the acting department would let me borrow a costume for just one night?</p><p>“I’m sorry, Starscream, but I can’t let you borrow anything tonight. We need everything we have for dress rehearsal.”</p><p>I struggled for the words to plead my case. “If you let me do this, I can do your assignments for a month! I just need it for a few hours! It’ll be back before sunrise, I promise.”</p><p>She shook her helm, already walking away. “Sorry.”</p><p>I grimaced. She clearly didn’t understand the severity of my situation. Who was she to decide what was needed and not? It was just a costume! It wasn’t like they kept anything organized around here.</p><p>I sighed. “Alright, thank you for talking to me. Good luck with dress rehearsal!”</p><p>“Mhm.” She turned a corner.</p><p> As I made my way off the stage, something glimmering caught my optic. I glanced back. There, hanging on a pole, was a sparkling cobalt cape. It matched my coloring perfectly, and to a young seeker with undeveloped fashion taste, it was gorgeous.</p><p>I bit my lip and scanned the stage. No one was there but me. I gazed at the cape, my digits intertwined. It was just a dress rehearsal. Guilt shot through my spark as I approached the cape with outstretched servos.</p><p>It felt so soft in my hands. Now I know it was actually quite a tacky fabric, but at the time, I was enamoured.</p><p>Before I could think too hard on the morals of the situation, I pulled the cape from its clips. I looked around once more and dashed out of the theatre.</p><p>I didn’t stop running until I reached the elevator back to my room. My fans whirled from the adrenaline. Up to that point, everything in my life had been handed to me. I never had to work for anything before. Now, one of the first times I was told “no”, I decided to steal.</p><p>The cape felt like gold in my servos. I clutched it tightly against my cockpit. I couldn’t take my optics off it. I was already addicted to the rush of immoral success. The adrenaline helped me falsely justify my actions.</p><p>Eclipse Park perfectly encapsulated the night life of Vos: intoxicating, addictive, fleeting. I could barely contain my excitement when I began to see the spotlights dancing from the doors to the club.</p><p>“The number one rule of clubbing is to act like you belong,” Crossfire said smugly as we pulled harshly upright, our alt modes gliding inches away from the skyscraper we climbed. “If you get too nervous, they’ll see that you’re underage and neither of us will get in.”</p><p>A substantial crowd was already gathered on the roof of the skyscraper, pushing amongst themselves for a shot at getting into Eclipse Park. We landed on the outskirts of the crowd, so close to the edge that we had to lean back against the railing.</p><p>“Is it always this busy?” I asked, entranced by the energy around us. It was true; This really was a seekers only gathering. Even on the tips of my pedes, I could barely see the front doors through huddled wings.</p><p>“Oh, yeah! If anything, this is a pretty small crowd. Usually, mechs have to stay in the air and land when they get the space.” Crossfire had to yell for us to hear each other. The music from inside was blaring. It assaulted my audials and I was immediately overwhelmed.</p><p>My optics narrowed. There was no way I would get in with this crowd, and I was <em> not </em>about to miss out on a night like this. I grabbed Crossfire’s elbow and pushed our way through the crowd towards the front door.</p><p>We made our way up to the rope separating us from the red carpet leading into the club. If I stepped over, I would get us in trouble. If I didn’t find a way in, I’d miss out.</p><p>And I wasn’t about to miss out.</p><p>My brain module raced for ideas. I turned to Crossfire. “How do you usually get in?” I asked.</p><p>“Well… I… I usually don’t.”</p><p>I blinked. “What?”</p><p>Crossfire smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I’ve only been inside once. I snuck in with a band in the back door.”</p><p>I crossed my arms. “You told me you come here ‘all the time’.”</p><p>He shrugged, caught in his bluff. “I do. I just don’t get in.”</p><p>I groaned and rolled my optics. “Great.” Now it made sense. This was a <em> new age </em> club. Only those who belonged got in, and two insignificant students from the Academy didn’t belong, especially <em> underage </em>students.</p><p>I needed to find a way in. This place beckoned me, and I was infatuated. I watched as a larger mech landed at the end of the red carpet. The guards stepped aside, welcoming him like an old friend. </p><p>“Do you recognize him?” I asked, nudging Crossfire.</p><p>“I think I’ve seen him come through here a few times, but I don’t know his designation.”</p><p>I rubbed my chin. This was my ticket in, even if I didn’t know how to use it. The larger seeker strode confidently down the red carpet, clearly enjoying the special treatment. It was now or never.</p><p>As he passed me, I called out, “Hey! Do you own the place?”</p><p>That caught his attention. He turned to me, a smirk on his face. “No,” he said, “I wish.”</p><p>I forced an innocent smile, purposefully lowering my wings to display innocence. “My friend and I are trying to get inside to meet up with our trine member. It’s her birthday today and we <em>really </em>wanted to have fun tonight. Can you help us?” I had no idea just how good I’d get at lying in the near future.</p><p>The mech considered my words for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, sure, why not? It’s rude to refuse a pretty little seeker like you.” He offered a servo and I accepted it, stepping over the fence. Crossfire followed us, struggling to hide his uneasiness.</p><p>When a guard stepped forward, the mech placed a servo around my waist, much to my disgust. “They’re with me,” he grinned. The doors slid open and we walked in. I glanced back at the desperate faces of the crowd, amazed at my success.</p><p>Eclipse Park took my breath away. It was if time stood still when the doors shut behind us. The only lighting came from neon strips lining the walls, strobing in alternating colors. Glitter rained down from vents in the ceiling like snow, covering everyone and everything I could see. Seekers huddled in booths lining the walls, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. A triangular glass ceiling reflected light from the buildings around us, catching the light of the glitter and making the entire place sparkle. The place <em> reeked </em> of alcoholic energon. It made my tanks churn as I recalled my run in with the miner.</p><p>“Now, let’s find your friend?” The mech escorting us clung tightly to my waist.</p><p>I tried to smile as I pulled away. “Oh, I’m sure we can find her ourselves. Thank you for your help, really!”</p><p>His smile faded when he realized I was rejecting his company. “Suit yourselves,” he grumbled, marching away like a sparkling being sent to their habsuite.</p><p>Crossfire was stunned, to say the least. “Screamer, you’re the smartest mech I know.”</p><p>I smirked. “I know.”</p><p>He grabbed my servo and pulled me to the bar. “Come on, let’s loosen up!”</p><p>The idea of getting drunk again made me nervous, but it did feel nice to be around my own kind. Every mech around me bore wings, even the bartender. I pushed my fear to the back of my mind and accepted the drink that Crossfire handed me.</p><p>It took a while, but I began to see the appeal of the place. As the energon flooded my systems and disabled my defenses, I found myself growing to enjoy the music that rang through my audials. The catchy beat began to beat in time with my spark, and soon Crossfire was leading us to the dance floor.</p><p>“No, no, I don’t even know how to dance!” I giggled, trying to resist as we were closed in by the crowd.</p><p>“Just watch everyone else!” Crossfire assured. “You’ll get the hang of it!”</p><p>Crossfire was patient with me, leading me through my stumbling steps as I awkwardly tried to copy his dancing. Like he said, I acclimated to the new movements quite quickly, and soon I was trying out other seekers’ dances. At some point, Crossfire was engaged by an intrigued seeker, and with the help of my buzzed encouragement, he accepted. They twirled away and I was left on my own, relishing in my new found independence.</p><p>By the time we returned home, I was covered in glitter, exhausted, and undoubtedly, absolutely hooked to the night life.</p><p>My nightly outings tripled, and I returned to Eclipse Park every absent moon, with or without Crossfire. I always found a way in. My habsuite’s shower found itself covered in a fresh layer of glitter every week. I kept the cobalt cape, refusing to make eye contact with the theatre students in the halls. I’m sure they knew, but by then, I honestly didn’t care. I wasn’t about to give up my freedom, my budding social life.</p><p>I met such interesting characters at Eclipse Park. I began to remember names, and they certainly remembered me. After a few weeks, I no longer had to pay for drinks. Someone always offered to pay, especially if I forced some flirting. The drinks poured freely and my personality blossomed well into the hours of the night. I knew I had made my mark on Eclipse Park on the night that I walked directly across the red carpet and into the club, passing the pleading crowd as if I had never once stood among them.</p><p>Surprisingly, I caught myself beginning to pay more attention to my appearance. I was addicted to the special treatment I received, and I wanted <em>more</em>. I began to notice the Vosnian billboards advertising higher quality polish, promising a glass like shine when applied to a mech’s body. The dean believed my story of wanting a better chance of finding a trine, so my allowance increased and I saved enough to buy the best products I could afford. The counter of my wash room became cluttered with jars of polish and wax. I found myself staring at myself in the mirror as I sharpened my fangs and denta, and when I donned my cape, I took a moment to pose for my own enjoyment. I began to worship my own body. Never before had I noticed just how sleek and provoking I could be with a bit of product and a hint of self absorption.</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Valedictorian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream graduates as Valedictorian and delivers a stunning speech to his class. Now, a scientist and a budding socialite, Starscream begins to experience life as a maturing seeker.</p>
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</div><p>“Starscream?” A knock on my door. I groaned and covered my optics with my elbow, my helm pounding from high grade energon, a feeling I was now quite familiar with.</p><p>When I didn’t reply, the knocking continued.<br/>I hissed. “Go… away.”</p><p>A sigh. “Our graduation is in seven breems.”</p><p>My optics onlined and I yelped. “Oh, <em> scrap </em>!” I cursed, throwing myself from the berth. My cape fell with me. I had offlined so quickly last night that I hadn’t even undressed.</p><p>“Let me in.” It was Jetfire. “I’ll help you get ready.”</p><p>In my hungover haze, I reached up and pressed the door’s trigger. It slid open and Jetfire glided in.</p><p>“You look horrible,” he said, offering a servo.</p><p>I shot him a glare and used the berth to stand. “Thanks.”</p><p>Jetfire stammered, rubbing his arm. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”</p><p>Ignoring him, I unclipped my cape. It fell to my pedes and I kicked it under the berth. My room was an utter mess. Glitter and datapads covered the door and bottles of medical energon lay emptied on my desk. The curtains had been drawn to ease my hangovers. The boa I had been gifted fell from the door as I pushed it open to access my shower.</p><p>I could hear Jetfire cleaning up as I bathed the grime from my body. “Did you… have fun last night?”</p><p>“I did, actually,” I retorted defensively. My helm was on fire and I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. “And I’m going to have fun again tonight if you must know.”</p><p>Jetfire ignored my attitude. “Just be safe.”</p><p>I emerged from the shower, washing fluid collecting in pools on the floor as it fell from my wings. Jetfire blinked and looked away as I propped my leg up to wipe my body dry.</p><p>I couldn’t fight the coy smile that grew on my face. I knew now how beautiful I was. The past few cycles had taught me when to recognize a mech staring when they thought I didn’t notice.</p><p>I tried not to notice Jetfire watching me as I applied a fresh coat of polish.</p><p>“Polish? That’s new,” he remarked, crossing his arms.</p><p>My optics met his in the mirror. “Why do you care?”</p><p>He shrugged. “I just don’t know why you think you need it.”</p><p>“I don’t know why you care,” I snapped, closing the jar and letting it fall carelessly into the sink. He stepped aside as I strode to the cabinet under my desk, pulling out my graduation cape. It magnetized to my shoulders and I flapped my wings to fluff out the fabric. It was a deep navy blue, falling gracefully to my pedes.</p><p>“Where’s your cape?” I asked, grabbing a file to touch up my claws.</p><p>“I left my things downstairs on my seat,” he replied as he opened the door for me. I led the way to the elevator, my optics transfixed upon my claws as I judged their appearance. The ache in my helm was finally beginning to clear.</p><p>We stood beside each other in the elevator. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t seen Jetfire in ages. It felt as though our lives had naturally grown apart, each of us going our own way. My pride refused to admit it, but I was somewhat excited to see him again, and I was touched that he would make sure I was ready for the ceremony.</p><p>Jetfire broke the silence with a question that stunned me. “Have you trined?”</p><p>I stared up at him, mouth agape. “<em>What</em>?”</p><p>He quickly began to backtrack. “Well, you seem so busy these days. I’ve heard you go out a lot, and now you’ve started using polishes and-”</p><p>My servos clenched. I hated discussing finding my trine. I knew I was behind schedule, but I still hadn’t found anyone close to matching the description the Dean gave me. At Eclipse Park, I received all the attention a mech could dream for, but I had yet to make a single lasting connection, one that meant anything more than free drinks.</p><p>“You know what I think?” I fumed, “I think trining isn’t as nearly as important or romantic as everyone makes it out to be. I’m beginning to wonder if seekers don’t actually just <em> pretend </em> to love their trine just to get everyone off their <em> back </em> , and I can understand why!” Jetfire opened his mouth to speak, but I pressed on. “ <em> No </em>, I do not have a fragging trine!”</p><p>The elevator doors slid open. I pushed past Jetfire into the hall, making my way to the auditorium. Students bumbled about, chattering about graduation and such nonsense as they followed us in.</p><p>I remember just how boring the graduation ceremony was. I kept yawning, my HUD still overwhelmed by the hangover. When the dean called my name as Valedictorian, I cursed under my breath when I remembered they expected me to speak.</p><p>Students gazed upon me as I made my way to the stage with the others in the top of my class, including Jetfire. They took their seats behind me and I stepped up to the podium. The dean smiled and kissed my cheek. I held her servo and returned the gesture. I may have been a pompous little mech, but I recognized love when I saw it.</p><p>I adjusted the microphone to my height. A mech stepped forward from below the stage and engaged the camera on his shoulder. My spark sank as I realized this was being televised.</p><p>Silence fell over the audience. I cleared my throat and flicked a wing to settle my cape, and then I began to speak.</p><p>“I owe my life to the Academy, quite literally. I was left on the steps of the front door when I was just a newborn sparkling.” A sympathising sigh from the audience. For a moment, I wondered if my carrier could be watching this broadcast. “The Academy took me under their wing and raised me as a seeker of Vos, and for that, I am eternally thankful. They taught me to fly, to cherish memories, and to forgive.” What was I <em> saying </em> ? “My earliest memories formed in lecture halls and auditoriums just like this, and I learned to write on data boards. I knew this school so well, but when I joined this class and begun my life as a student, I felt completely estranged.” A lie, the first of many. From the very beginning, I had the upper hand over <em> every </em>student here. “You know me as Starscream, but my teachers knew me as simply a student. I got to know so many of you on such a personal level. We have, quite literally, watched each other grow, and I know in my spark that all of you will lead quite interesting lives.” I smiled, but only in amusement of my own words. I was speaking utter scrap. “As you begin the next step in your lives, do not forget your worth. Do not forget your identity as Cybertronians. Millions of years ago, our ancestors forged our bodies from the ashes of conquest and here we stand, a united world, standing strong against any trial that comes our way. Do not forget to offer a servo to your brother when you stand, and more importantly, do not forget to have faith. We live long lives, and in that time, I know we will see waves of change come and go, washing over our society and eroding the old ideals to allow fresh beginnings to rise. Times will change, but our strength will not falter. Your very sparks contain the unyielding will to live, and no matter how trying times may get, you will succeed. It is in our very biology to succeed. Our ancestors succeeded so that we could succeed. We succeeded and we built towers that breach the atmosphere. Just as towers are built, so will your pride. Your pride as a united people will grow well past Cybertron. It will reach far into space, far beyond the galaxies, into the most desolate corners of the universe. This, I know. And I believe you know it, too.”</p><p>There was a long pause, and I began to wonder if I had misspoke. The crowd erupted in applause, mechs rising to their pedes and hollering in support. I smiled, nodding and waving. It felt natural to me, all of this attention and praise. It fueled me. It fueled me better than any energon ever could. The words I had spoken were empty, fabricated in what I thought was most likely to please the crowd, but my love for my planet was real. The love for my city was real.</p><p>The dean embraced me and pressed the Valedictorian Seeker badge to my chassi. “I’m <em> so </em>proud of you, little Star,” she whispered. “I know you will do great things.”</p><p>The band began to play and we descended the stairs of the stage. The crowd reached up to touch me, and I offered my servos to them. They laughed and praised and cried all at once, and I was stupefied. Just how <em> easy </em>was it to impress these mechs? Didn’t they have any standards? Couldn’t they see just how empty my words were?</p><p>Still, I accepted their touch. They kissed my hands and I smiled.</p><p> </p><p>The only path I had ever seen for myself was chemistry, so I kept walking. Jetfire and I began working in the basement of the Academy, the most technologically advanced laboratory in Vos. We were moved out of our habsuites and into the faculty suites, an exciting upgrade from the students’ facilities. My new room was quite spacious, with a tub for oil baths and a quaint balcony at the foot of my berth. With the end of my allowance and the beginning of a scientist’s paygrade, I now had the freedom to develop my tastes. My beauty products increased in quality as well as my decor. I began scouring Vos for paintings and calligraphy, those that reflected the beautiful form and culture of seekers. I invested in extravagant fabrics and had a canopy installed upon my berth, as well as heavy curtains to block out any light that would worsen my mornings after a particularly active night of party. As a final touch, I had a bar installed with upscale energon. I told myself it was for guests who followed me home from Eclipse Park, but I suppose I always knew it was really for: the trine I couldn’t seem to find.</p><p>At some point, I must have visited Jetfire’s suite to see what he had done with the place, but I was immediately disappointed. He had neither changed nor added <em> anything </em>. He would rather save his money for quality lab equipment, he told me, but I knew he just didn’t know what to buy. I tried to suggest a dash of color here or a Vosnian painting there, but he was too stubborn to spend anything. We were so opposite, he and I. I was the drop of crimson ink in his bowl of milk.</p><p>Neither of us would admit it, but I think we both enjoyed the increase of each other’s company. We worked side by side in the lab, never more than twenty feet apart, and I cherished our time. We began to talk again, not as students but as fully formed mechs, developing our new personalities as they unfolded.</p><p>I continued to enjoy the nightlife, of course. I returned the battered cobalt cape to the theatre, much to their annoyance, and hired a tailor to make me the most gorgeous outfits he could think of. I had a closet installed and my collection grew. This was when I began to take a liking to purple. Violet, especially, the seeker’s color. My closet became jam packed with mauves, lapis, violets, emeralds, plums, sapphires, rubies, wines, even some fuschia. I suppose this is why I took such a liking to the kimonos of Earth. I even began to collect some jewelry, not that I wore it very often. I saw every outing as a chance to display my seeker pride, a way to show the world just how beautiful we could be. I pitied the seeker who did not take advantage of their own gorgeous form.</p><p>As pleasurable as my life now was, I was not immune to the changing times. The political unrest was growing. I’m ashamed to say I ignored it. At the time, I believed it was just another fad, one that would surely die off and evolve into the next obsession. When I gazed down upon the graffiti that began to appear over the Senator’s billboards, I thought it was just some kind of adolescent pass time, a way to feel rebellious. Once in a while, I tuned into the news when there was nothing else to watch, and I took a moment to listen to the court hearings and news reports. That was around the time that I began hearing of this new data clerk turned political activist, the young Orion Pax.</p><p>“I see the people of Cybertron and I see their pain,” he once said when I tuned into one of the first of his many interviews. “I see the miners on Luna Two who have no voice. I will be your voice.”</p><p>I scoffed and changed the channel. What nonsense, I thought. What pain could there possibly be on Cybertron? We were thriving. <em> I </em>was thriving.</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Thin Ice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream, now a prominent scientist and a substantial figure in the nightclubs of Vos, enjoys the splendor of his youth. However, all good things must come to an end.</p>
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</div><p>Jetfire was already deep in his work when I finally entered the lab, uncomfortably late to my shift. I slid into the sanitizing pod, allowing it to rid my body of any pathogens.</p><p>“Good morning,” Jetfire said, unwilling to take his eyes off the microscope before him.</p><p>I finished the bottle of medical energon in my servo. The hangovers had become a part of my morning routine. “Mm, good morning.” I engaged the massive screen before me, scrolling down to where I had finished the night before. The Vosnian hospital had hired us to find a solution that would prevent clogging of energon in outdated mech’s tanks. It wasn’t the glorious work I had initially hoped for, but I spent my days alongside my best friend and I was content. More than content, I was <em> happy </em>.</p><p>“I hear there’s a new club in town. I think it’s called <em> Hexi </em> something or other,” Jetfire mumbled from across the lab.</p><p>I stopped chewing on the pen in my hand to smile. Jetfire hadn’t a scrap of interest in Vosnain nightlife, but whenever he found out something new, he was sure to tell me about it.</p><p>“<em> Hexi Praxi </em>,” I corrected, letting out a gentle laugh. “That one’s been around for a few weeks now. You’re a little late to the party.”</p><p>“Har, har. Don’t you want to check it out?”</p><p>I shrugged, my optics locked on the screen before me, scanning for errors in my work. “I was invited to opening night, but it didn’t seem like my type of place. I heard grounders frequent the place.”</p><p>Jetfire dropped off a datapad at my desk for me. “What’s wrong with grounders at a party?”</p><p>I scoffed, giving Jetfire a cynical look. “You’re one to talk!”</p><p>He gave me a playful nudge. “Just because I had to save your aft from a grounder at a bar some hundred years ago doesn’t mean they’re <em> all </em> bad.”</p><p>I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well, thank you for that, anyway.”</p><p>He smiled and walked back to his station, but my mind remained on the subject. Perhaps Jetfire was right. It was miners that I disliked, not grounders themselves. I mourned for them, really. I couldn’t imagine losing my ability to fly. Having to live my life without flight would be torture, I felt.</p><p>I was nearing some three hundred years on this planet, and I still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of drinking around grounders. Perhaps it was time to change that.</p><p>“Where is that place, anyway?” I asked, turning back to look at Jetfire.</p><p>He shrugged. “Somewhere in the Astra district, I think. Ask me about science, not this kind of stuff.”</p><p>“Computer, where is Hexi Praxi and what are their hours of operation?”</p><p>“<em> Hexi Praxi is located in the Astra district, at 39-092-32 Avenue. Their hours of operation are midnight to dawn, every day </em>,” an electronic voice boomed from above.</p><p>“You’re only supposed to use that for work, y’know,” Jetfire scolded sarcastically.</p><p>I smiled. “Why would I use the computer for work when I have you?”</p><p>Life was prosperous and I was grateful. If only I had known how fragile it was. It became harder to ignore the news reports. They demanded our attention, pulled us in with the raw interviews of restless Cybertronians and shocking images of public protests. Vos was a strong city. It resisted the war for as long as it possibly could. We lived in a bubble, peacefully ignorant of the turmoil just outside our borders.</p><p>Soon, our work in the lab spread beyond the Academy. Jetfire and I were invited to explore neighboring planets through space bridges, portals that could reach any location in the universe you desired. We began to survey alien worlds, discovering carbon life in forms we had never thought possible. Our exploration felt like adventures plucked straight from a sparkling’s fairy tale. I saw Primus in the very dirt of the planets we explored, budding through and unfolding like origami in the form of flowers. I had never before seen flowers, and I was enamored by their variety, their fragility in my mechanical hands. Seeing such plant based planets made me nervous. We were several ton machines, squashing everything we stepped on. I felt as though my presence on these fertile planets was like stepping on thin ice. I could feel our influence on the planets we wandered.</p><p>And, inevitably, the ice cracked.</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ice Age</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jetfire and Starscream explore a frozen planet on a work assignment. Things go horribly wrong when a blizzard appears.</p>
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</div><p>“What a gorgeous planet,” Jetfire smiled, taking a break from his readings to enjoy the view before us.</p><p>I shrugged. “It’s <em> all </em>ice. I’m freezing.”</p><p>“You have to learn to see the beauty in everything. You see ice, but I see a serene wonderland. There isn’t even a breeze.”</p><p>We crouched next to each other, struggling to crack the ice below us. The carbon based planet we had come to was in the middle of an ice age, and the ice was <em> thick </em>. We had been assigned here in search of water, a relatively new element that had previously been unknown to Cybertronians. The job was simple: collect some ice and return home. It should have been an easy job. It should have been just another day.</p><p>I suppose Primus had <em> other </em>plans in mind for me. Today, he would rip out my spark and crush the one thing I held dear.</p><p>I cursed, throwing down the saw in my servo. “This is pointless. Nothing is getting through.”</p><p>Jetfire only smiled, taking the saw and tucking it away in his cargo. “Then I guess this is going to be a simple field trip. Why don’t we relax for a moment and enjoy the tranquility?”</p><p>“No,” I snapped, “I want to go home.” I hugged my knees and ran the fans in my chest at maximum speed, struggling to bring up my internal temperature. But I stayed, huddling closer to Jetfire. He placed an arm around my shoulders. He knew I would fly through Hell and back to make him happy.</p><p>“I’ve found that life is much richer when you take the time to slow down,” he said, pulling me closer. “We can never relive a moment, but we can enjoy it while it lasts.”</p><p>I shivered. “I don’t know how anyone could enjoy <em> this </em> temperature.”</p><p>We sat in silence. I was miserable, but Jetfire was happy, so I stayed.</p><p>“Look,” he said, “the sun is rising.”</p><p>I pulled my helm up from my knees. The planet only had one sun, and it wasn’t anything special. It doused the mountains around us in gold, and my HUD began to record an increase in temperature.</p><p>Believe me when I tell you that I would happily give my life for a <em> chance </em>to relive that day, sitting next to Jetfire, freezing my aft off as we watched the sunrise.</p><p>“Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re worthless, Star,” Jetfire whispered. He hadn’t called me Star in years. I closed my optics and leaned against him.</p><p>“What makes you say that?” I took his servo in my own, my cobalt clashing against his snowy hue.</p><p>He shrugged. “Not sure. Life is fleeting, I guess. I could live twelve million years and I still wouldn’t have the time to tell you everything I hope you know.”</p><p>I didn’t know what to say. I smiled, something I hadn’t done in quite a while. It was the perfect sunrise. I didn’t even notice when the warning signals began.</p><p>“What is that?” Jetfire asked, letting go of my servo.</p><p>I raised my arm, flipping open my communicator. The signal continued, reporting an incoming storm.</p><p>“I think we need to get out of here,” I said.</p><p>Jetfire nodded and we began to pack up.</p><p>“What do you say to a drink at Macaddam’s when we get back?” Jetfire asked as he packed a sample.</p><p>“I’ll take anything they have that’ll warm me up.”</p><p>Just as I began to load my own cargo, something on the horizon caught my attention. I looked up. A blizzard was approaching us, and <em> fast </em>.</p><p>“Okay, time to <em> go </em>,” Jetfire said, engaging his turbines.</p><p>We blasted off, but the storm was closing in on us. We sped up, but the storm was faster. Before I even knew what hit us, we were swallowed.</p><p>My systems erupted in error messages. I could barely focus on stabilizing before my communicator, stabilizers, and compass were all jammed.</p><p>“<em> Scrap </em>!” I cursed, engaging several manual overrides. The black clouds swirled around us in every direction. I lost sight of the ground and the sky. I couldn’t even see where the mountains had gone.</p><p>“Do you have any idea where we are?” I screeched to Jetfire, struggling to stay airborne.</p><p>“We need to find shelter,” Jetfire hollered, flying just in front of me to take the brunt of the storm, using his substantially larger body to protect me. “This is bad, really bad.”</p><p>I felt my thrusters sputtering behind me. The ice had begun to crystalize on my body, and my HUD system was off the charts. Fear grew in my spark, but if I engaged them too far, I might just send myself crashing into the ground, and so far from home or medics, that was not an option.</p><p>“Jetfire, what do we do?!”</p><p>“I don’t know. I genuinely don’t know. I can’t call for back up. Can you?”</p><p>“No, my communicators jammed, too."</p><p>It happened so fast. Something hit us, an especially strong gust of wind, perhaps. Both of us were sent spiraling in opposing directions. I screamed in terror as I fell. At any moment, I knew I could smash and permanently offlined. </p><p>“Jetfire!” I wailed, transforming and flailing helplessly. A shard of ice appeared before me and I covered my face with my arm. It wasn’t enough. We collided and I was knocked offline.</p><p>I’m not sure how long I was out. When I finally onlined, the storm had passed. My HUD flashed behind my optics, telling me that I had a broken wing and thruster.</p><p>I lay upon the side of the mountain, struggling to vent air. The pain grew and I clenched my denta.</p><p>“Jet.... Jetfire?” I groaned. No response.</p><p>“Jetfire?” I repeated, a little louder.</p><p>The silence worried me. I sat up, gasping as pain shot through my back to the tip of my wing. I forced myself to look back. My left wing was perfectly split in half, hanging onto my body by a thread. I shut my optics and tried not to purge.</p><p>“Jetfire?” I called once again. My seeker audials could hone in on a bolt hitting the floor from the other side of a blaring nightclub, but now, all I could hear was the breeze.</p><p>I forced myself to stand, panting as I tried to breathe through the pain. My legs ached from the impact.</p><p>The area around me was as if the storm had never happened. I had no idea where I was. I could have been miles or only feet from where we arrived.</p><p>I descended the mountain and stepped out onto the ice. My anxiety grew as I turned in a slow circle, searching for <em> any </em>sign of life. Searching for Jetfire. There wasn’t even a gust of smoke, only snow falling down upon my shoulders.</p><p>My spark sank. “JETFIRE!”</p><p>I <em> had </em>to find him. I forced myself to transform. It was utter agony, but I did it. I engaged my remaining operational thruster, climbing into the sky to get a better look.</p><p>My scanner was back online, and I entered Jetfire’s identity. It took a moment, searching at maximum range.</p><p><em> No results found </em>.</p><p>I cursed and began to fly. The snow melted on my split wing, making it throb in torturous pulses. I pressed on, engaging my scanner over and over again, <em> begging </em>it to find my friend.</p><p>
  <em> No results found. </em>
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</p><p>I kept searching until my energon levels checked in low. I let myself fall, catching myself mere inches above the surface and landing with a heavy <em> thud </em>.</p><p>I spun in a circle, looking all around me. All I saw was ice. Ice and empty mountains.</p><p>Fluid began to gather behind my optics. This world had taken my friend from me.</p><p>“JETFIRE?” I wailed as loud as I could manage. My vocalizer was fried from calling his name for hours.</p><p>I grit my denta. Rage grew in my spark. My savior, the first one to hold me as a sparkling, the one who caught me when I flew too far, the one who made me who I am today, was gone.</p><p>“Jetfire,” I whispered, shutting my optics.</p><p>I let out a cry of pure rage, my vents erupting a sonic boom and cracking the ice below me. My body bled and energon pooled below me. I screamed until my vocalizer finally shut off in an attempt to protect itself. I fell to my knees, slamming onto the ice.</p><p>My scanner continued to search well into the night. I lay upon the ground, remaining completely still, in the hopes that I would hear something, <em> anything </em>. When the sun rose the following day, my critically low level of energon caused my body to send out a distress signal.</p><p>When the Cybertronian rescue team found me, I finally allowed the tears to start falling.</p><p> </p><p>The medics forced me into cryogenic restoration. I kicked and screamed the whole way in, insisting that I return to that cursed planet and continue my search for Jetfire. Finally, they had to resort to tranquilizers, and I was thrust into the restoration pool.</p><p>My body took days to heal. Cybertronians are profound creatures. When given the right resources, our bodies can heal themselves from even the brink of death. But that is only physical healing. My spark was gone, my body an empty shell of what it once was. My entire world had been crushed, split in half by a cruel and loveless God.</p><p>Enforcers ran searches for several days. I read the reports from the window of my restoration pod. I refused to recharge. The medics began to drug me to get me to finally fall offline. Even when I was fully repaired and dragged out of the pod, my body heaving with stress from prolonged status, I was drunk with the cocktail of tranquilizes in my system.</p><p>As soon as I left the hospital, I flew straight for the space bridge. To my horror, I was denied access. They needed a controlled environment, they said, to maximize the chances of finding Jetfire. I retreated to my habsuite, locking myself in and curling up in my berth. I began to nest without even knowing what I was doing, my arms moving on their own as they formed the blankets into some kind of shell, a seeker’s natural response to recent trauma.</p><p>I quit my job at the first request to come back. I couldn’t stand to be in the same room he once frequented. The Academy understood. They allowed me to stay, automatically taking rent from my account every few astro cycles.</p><p>My high grade energon was barely enough to contain my rage. I would online in the middle of the night, screaming and sobbing until I had no more tears to give.</p><p>I no longer knew joy. That planet had taken it from me. It had drained my spark of all its luster. I wanted to die, but I couldn’t bring myself to jump from my balcony. What if Jetfire came home? What if I awoke to see him sitting at the end of my berth? As empty as I felt, I knew that Jetfire would want me to keep going.</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Healing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prowl delivers news regarding Jetfire. Starscream is invited to the gladiatorial pits.</p>
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</div><p>“Follow my digit, please,” the medic before me instructed, waving a digit from side to side.</p><p>I followed it with my optics, patiently waiting to go home and crawl back into my berth. </p><p>“Open your HUD module, please.”</p><p>I leaned forward and allowed my back to fold apart. The medic reached in, assessing the condition of the wires and chips that measured my health.</p><p>“Your body is healing well,” he reported, typing into his data pad. “But how is your <em>mental </em>health?”</p><p>My optics met his and I smirked, as if to say, <em>Do I have to say it outloud?</em></p><p>He sighed. “What hobbies did you have before the incident? Perhaps it is time for you to continue them.” When I didn’t reply, he asked, “What was your occupation?”</p><p>“Scientist,” I murmured, staring down at my pedes.</p><p>“I think it would be beneficial for you to return to work, even if just part time.”</p><p>I shook my helm.</p><p>“There is a psychiatrist in Praxus named Rung. Would you like his card?”</p><p>“No. May I go home now?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I slid from the table and began walking to the door.</p><p>“Same time next week,” the medic replied, cleaning up his work station behind me.</p><p>I tried to walk out, but my path was intercepted by the Praxian enforcer I now know as Prowl.</p><p>“I was looking for you,” he grumbled.</p><p>I grimaced. “Well, I wasn’t looking for you. Get out of my way.”</p><p>He scowled. “Not going to. I have news regarding your missing friend.”</p><p>My grimace vanished, replaced by shock. “What?! What is it?”</p><p>Prowl cleared his throat and crossed his arms, glaring down at me with azure optics. “They haven’t found any trace of him. We’re cutting off the search.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>? No!” I grabbed his bull bar, yanking him down to my level. “You can’t <em>do</em> this to him! You can’t leave him on some frozen wasteland to die!”</p><p>Prowl placed a firm servo over mine. “You have one astrosecond to let go of me.”</p><p>I shook my helm. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You can’t even be bothered to recover a <em>body</em>?! I can’t believe you would abandon your own kind! I should <em>offline </em>you, right here and now!”</p><p>I didn’t even have the chance to think. Prowl yanked my servos away, twisting me around and shoving me to the ground.</p><p>“Threatening and assaulting an enforcer,” he growled in my audial, slapping magnetized cuffs around my wrists. “Not smart.”</p><p>The enforcers had nothing on me. They couldn’t keep me for long, but Prowl has one of the most stubborn sparks I know, so he kept me overnight.</p><p>At some point, I must have drifted off in my cell. Around midnight, I was awoken by the arrival of a cellmate.</p><p>“This is complete <em> scrap </em> , you know that?” The mech growled, wrenching side to side to fight the iron grip of the enforcer pushing him inside my cell. I grew uneasy when I realized this was some kind of mining mech. He was <em> huge </em>, and he had to duck down to fit through the doorway. Dried energon splattered his dark olive paint, and I felt myself moving to the corner of the cell. The door slid shut and the mech spewed a few more obscenities at the enforcer before taking a seat on the opposing side of the cell. He groaned, lifting a servo to his smashed optic, bleeding fresh energon.</p><p>I didn’t dare to speak. My wings stood high, a seeker’s reflex to appear taller in the presence of danger. I kept my optics on the ground.</p><p>“Rough night, eh?” He was speaking to me now. “Did they also nab you from the pits?”</p><p>I shook my helm, crossing my arms and hunching over, protecting my core.</p><p>He cleared his throat and leaned back against the wall, steam rising from the seams of his legs. I couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to get so damaged.</p><p>My curiosity overpowered my fear. “Pits?”</p><p>He scoffed. “You mean you don’t know about the gladiatorial pits?”</p><p>My tanks churned. I contemplated asking the enforcer sitting at the end of the hall to change my cell.</p><p>“It’s paradise, really,” he chuckled, picking the broken bits from his optic, wincing in pain. “It’s the only place in the world that a mech can really <em> live </em>.”</p><p>I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”</p><p>He grinned coyly. “A little seeker like you wouldn’t understand. The pits aren’t for the high caste. They’re for the mechs who keep Cybertron running, the ones your kind step on.”</p><p>I scowled. “I don’t step on my people.”</p><p>“Oh, really? I don’t see a scratch on you,” he growled, his smile fading. “Look at you. You’ve never had to fight for <em>anything </em>a day in your life.”</p><p>My irritation grew. “You don’t know anything about me.”</p><p>“I don’t have to know <em>scrap</em> about you to know that you have no idea how this world really works. Who do you think gets the energon for your bogus parties? Who do you think powers the penthouses you live in? Have you ever thought about <em>why </em>Cybertron thrives?"</p><p>“Cybertron thrives because we are a strong race,” I spat.</p><p>“<em>Ha! No.</em> Cybertron thrives because miners like us are worked to the point of <em>extermination </em>on those moons. We work our entire lives and for what? They throw us out like garbage when we finally collapse, when we are no longer <em>useful </em>to them.”</p><p>I had never heard anything like this. “Useful to whom?”</p><p>“The Senate! They build us solely for the purpose of mining, but now they’re automating everything. They’re taking our jobs and kicking us onto the street. That’s why we fight in the pits. We can’t get energon anywhere else. We are dying down there.”</p><p>“You’re lying,” I whispered.</p><p>“Oh, yeah? Come to Kaon if you don’t believe me. Come and see what Cybertron <em> really </em> is.”</p><p>Prowl stepped out from his office, marching to the electric bars of our cell and cursing under his breath. “Don’t you <em> dare </em> go to those pits,” he hissed to me, pointing directly at my chassi. “If I so much as see you in Kaon, I’ll hunt you down and let you <em> rot </em> in here.” He turned to the miner. “And you. <em> Shut up </em> . Your kind fight in the pits because you’re too lazy to find a real job, or perhaps you’re just too <em> stupid </em>.”</p><p>I grit my denta. “He isn’t stupid.” I had no idea that those words were even inside me. And for a miner!</p><p>Prowl smirked and our optics locked. Prowl was always obsessed with being alpha mech, even before the war. I broke first, my optics falling to my pedes.</p><p>“That’s what I thought,” he growled, turning and walking away.</p><p>The miner cleared his throat. “Thank you for that,” he mumbled awkwardly.</p><p>“Don’t mention it.”</p><p>“Y’know, if you ever come to Kaon, see if you can find me in the pits. I’ll introduce you to the <em> big </em> mech. He’ll give you a good dose of reality.”</p><p>I blinked. “The big mech?”</p><p>The mech only grinned, settling down on the floor for a recharge. “I have a feeling you’ll find out soon enough.”</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Pits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream's experience at the gladitorial pits leaves him shaken and confused after an intimate connection with a mystery gladiator.</p>
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    <p> </p>
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</div><p>Prowl’s final warning against the gladiatorial pits as he released me the final morning wasn’t enough. Even if he was a brash mech, the miner’s words captivated my spark. Was the Cybertron I knew a false reality? Could the senate really be so cruel? I had always known form dictated function, but weren’t mechs happy with that?</p><p>The invitation to the pits broke my depression. I now had something to look forward to, even if I was a little nervous. As I fell from my balcony and calibrated in the direction of Kaon, I wondered if I was making a mistake. I knew Jetfire wouldn’t approve of this.</p><p>The lights of Vos faded behind me, melting into a barren desert whose wind fought against my wings. I had never flown in this direction before, and I had certainly never been to Kaon. The news described Kaon as a criminal’s sanctuary, a place of destruction and grime, the polar opposite of my orderly, civilized Vos. Just as the boredom began to let my unease show, begging me to turn back, I began to see the outskirts of Kaon, mostly metal shacks tucked between desolate mountains. The city began to form and I was aghast by its appearance, poorly built skyscrapers full of holes and rot. Below me, the roads were smashed by what must have been debris, some of which were completely cut off. Here, I was thankful to be airborne.</p><p>The wonder vanished when I realized that I had <em> no </em> idea where I was even flying. I had arrived in Kaon, but where were these gladiatorial pits he spoke of? I <em> certainly </em>wasn’t going to ask for directions. Even if I did find anyone in this desolate wasteland of a city, I doubted that my polished upper caste form would invite anything other than trouble.</p><p>Suddenly, I had company, a few seekers below me. I wondered if they had also come from Vos, but my better judgement advised me against attracting attention.</p><p>Rather than continue to wander aimlessly through Kaon, I cut my thrusters and allowed myself to fall behind, keeping a safe distance as I tailed them. Just as I wondered if I should cut my luck and break off from the entourage, I spotted what they were flying to, an arena in the heart of the city that sent violet spotlights into the clouds above us, waving around erratically, beckoning any visitors brave enough to approach. Even from up here, I could hear the cheering from inside.</p><p>The seekers dipped, falling gracefully to what must have been the entrance. As we descended, I could see a substantial crowd walking through the doors to the arena.</p><p>I transformed just before landing, firing my thrusters to break my fall. My entourage still hadn’t noticed me, too busy babbling excitedly as they ran to the crowd.</p><p>I gulped, looking up at the clouds above us, swelling with impending rain. This certainly wasn’t the weather for a gathering.</p><p>The crowd moved quickly, filing in at a steady pace. I was stuffed between more grounders than I had ever seen, and their ragged appearance had me sticking out in contrast. When the heavily damaged mech watching the door spotted me looking up at him with trepidation, he grinned.</p><p>“Fresh gears,” he ridiculed. I hoped he was joking.</p><p>Seeing the inside of the arena, I understood the crowd’s excitement. Earsplitting music blasted through the bleachers, echoing out the open ceiling and into the night. The bleachers were <em> packed </em> , and I followed the mechs who climbed the stairs on either side of the doors for a better chance at finding a seat. I climbed to the fourth floor and followed a pair of mechs inching their way to a trio of empty seats. I struggled to ignore the jeering laughter that followed me when bots noticed me. I was one of a handful of mechs here who <em> wasn’t </em> caked in rusted energon and dirt, but I was too frightened to turn back. I took my seat in the front row of our floor, leaning forward to the wire fence that prevented us from falling off the balcony. It was awkward, but it was the only way for me to sit without shoving my wings into the mechs behind me. This arena had <em> not </em>been built for those with wings. I clasped my servos between my knees and watched the bleachers fill with mechs.</p><p>“WELCOME BACK, CYBERTRONIANS!” A booming voice echoed through the speakers hanging from the ceiling. I winced, the collective volume of a cheering crowd, heavy Cybertronian rock, and the announcement piercing my audials.</p><p>A mech climbed the steps and stepped out onto the stage, a slender femme bot with a crude figure. She swayed her hips as she walked. I frowned. Clearly, no one had taught her how to provoke anything more than a drunken mech. She grinned, waving to the crowd. They hollered back, shouting perverse garbage that I would rather <em> not </em>repeat.</p><p>“Welcome back! Welcome back!” She laughed, gesturing with her hands for the music to be tuned down, then adjusting the microphone attached to her audial. “How is everyone doing tonight?” The crowd roared.</p><p>I rolled my optics. What <em> was </em>this?</p><p>“Everyone knows the drill, so get down here if you think you've got what it takes to fight! Who here is brave enough to challenge our champion?” Champion? Of what?</p><p><br/>Several mechs around me stood up, shoving their way to the stairs, many of them in no condition to fight, or whatever it was they did here. I leaned forward to keep my wings safe.</p><p>“You know how it works! Win, and you get all the energon and parts you could possibly dream of!”</p><p>I was dumbfounded. What kind of parts? Was this some kind of sporting event?</p><p>A deafening horn went off, making me cover my audials. The femme waved and descended the stairs of the stage, vanishing into the dark tunnel before her. Out came two massive mechs, walking to opposing corners and facing each other, lowering into a kneel. If only I had known what I was about to witness.</p><p>“Oh, Primus!” The mech beside me wailed giddily to their friend. “Here we go!”</p><p><br/>The horn blasted again, and the mechs on the stage raised to their pedes, pulling out various weapons from their respective corners. I shook my helm, utterly confused. A final horn was called and the fighting began.</p><p>The mechs threw themselves at each other like animals, screaming out in a warrior’s cry. One mech drew back their mace, and with a single blow, smashed it into the face of his enemy. Energon spewed in all directions and metal shavings fell to the floor. </p><p>I cried out, covering my mouth, absolutely horrified. The opponent fell to his knees. The assailant stepped aside and allowed the mech to collapse. Even with his face destroyed, I saw that he was dead.</p><p>The crowd erupted, some even standing up in support of the winning mech. A pair of smaller bots stepped out, dragging the body away.</p><p>“Where did they take him?” I begged those around me. “What will they do with him?” No one heard me.</p><p>The night carried on like this, mech killing mech, brother against brother. Every time a mech was slain, the crowd erupted with raw energy. They loved it. They couldn’t get enough of it. And as horrified as I was, I couldn’t look away. I could have left at any time, but I stayed, locked in my seat by some kind of chain in my spark. I had never seen death before, blissfully unaware that killing would become my sole purpose for millions of years to come.</p><p>The fights grew in duration. The ones fighting became stronger, bigger, more desperate to live. Their tactics became calculated, missing deadly blows by <em> centimeters </em> . I was enamoured, my mouth stuck agape in horror. My spark pounded in its shell. I wanted <em> more </em>.</p><p>“ARE YOU READY… FOR YOUR CHAMPION?” The voice from above dared the crowd. They screamed in adoration, shaking the fences on every level, clamoring for a chance to get a better view of the stage.</p><p>A colossal gray mech climbed the stairs to the stage. I sat four stories above him, yet I could still <em> feel </em> the vibrations of his steps. The mech waved to the crowd. I could see deep, painful gashes on his wide chassi, rusted from failing to see a medic in time. He reached up, removing the chain holding some kind of crudely shaped violet pendant from around his neck and handed it to the femme announcer behind him. She <em> curtseyed </em> , obviously enamored by this <em> champion </em> of hers, and backed away. I could tell he was a miner from the helmet lined with yellow tape upon his helm, as well as the continuous tracks wrapped over thick wheels on the sides of his calves.</p><p>His opponent emerged from the steps behind him, nodding to him as he walked to the other side of the stage. Watching his fights as the night progressed, I could see how cocky this opponent was. He smiled as he ambled over, waving to the crowd, lacking the same gusto of the champion.</p><p>“Alright, old <em> mech </em> ,” he mocked, reaching to his side and detaching a weighted bludgeon, “ <em> bring </em>it if you can.”</p><p>My spark trembled and I looked to the champion for a response. I had yet to face death, but I knew I wouldn’t be <em> mocking </em> them.</p><p>The arena’s champion only nodded, reaching down and pulling an energon axe from his leg. I scoffed. Surely he would need more than a mining axe? He activated the axe and it unfolded, spitting out ropes of electricity.</p><p>I could hardly contain my excitement. I clutched the fence before me, my claws digging into my palm. I <em> needed </em>to see this mech fight.</p><p>The final horn of the night boomed through my audials, making my spark race. I grinned, leaning forward and pressing my face against the fence.</p><p>“Come on already!” I whispered.</p><p>The opponent threw himself forward, pulling back his arm and sending his bludgeon crashing down upon the floor. The champion ducked with inches to give and the stage split open from the bludgeon’s impact.</p><p>His opponent wasted no time, swinging his weapon towards the champion with a cry of anger, but the champion was faster. He raised his arm and swung his axe into the shoulder of the sloppy mech.</p><p>The mech cried out in agony, his bludgeon dropping to the floor. I held my breath as the champion yanked his axe down and out <em> through </em>his shoulder joint, detaching his arm with a brutal sever. My smile began to strain my cheeks. I was mesmerized.</p><p>“Please!” The mech wailed, shielding his face with his remaining servo, “Have mercy!”</p><p><br/>The champion would not listen. He threw his axe across the stage, well out of his reach, and with his own two servos, brought them down and <em>crushed </em>the mech’s head in one blow.</p><p>The crowd <em> overloaded </em>from the sight, screaming incomprehensibly and cheering as the opponent fell to the ground. The champion kicked the bludgeon away and looked up to the crowd.</p><p>“Does anyone else dare to <em> face </em>me?!” He challenged, beating against his chest like an animal with a closed fist. The crowd only cried in admiration. No one dared to accept.</p><p>The champion panted heavily, wiping the energon from his opponents crushed helm from his lips. I gazed down upon him, utterly hypnotized.</p><p>And then, as if Primus himself had called for his attention, the champion turned his helm and met my optics.</p><p>My breath hitched. This mech terrified me to my very core, my very <em> being </em>, but I couldn’t look away. We held the gaze for what felt like an eternity. The crowd around me had vanished, my audials disabled. In those few, fleeting seconds, it was only the two of us in this arena.</p><p>He broke the gaze, turning on his pedes and vanishing from the stage. I gasped for breath, as if my vents had been crushed. The audience rose from their chairs all at once, pouring into the hallways. Overstimulated and flooded with emotions previously unknown, I realized it was all too much for me. As soon as I had the room to fly, I transformed and blasted into the sky. I flew as fast as I could, my thrusters at full power. I didn’t stop until I landed on my balcony, falling to my knees and struggling to breathe.</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Temptation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream reflects on the emotions brought upon his life from his experience with the gladiator.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div class="resolved">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <span>I couldn’t bring myself to return to the pits. As I lay upon my berth that night, the thick canopy dancing over my wings from the breeze, I felt my tanks begin to turn sour. Watching those mechs die in that arena, I realized, brought me excitement. Jetfire would have tried to stop the whole thing from the moment he realized someone’s life was in danger. I, on the other hand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>smiled</span>
  </em>
  <span> as I watched my brothers fall. How dare I smile at death?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even worse, the emotions I had felt when my optics locked with that mech, that gargantuan, vile killer. To this day, I still cannot put into words what I felt in my spark during that moment. As I tossed and turned, tangling myself in the blankets night after night, I couldn’t even begin to describe what I had felt. After a week, I had only found three words: Horror, revulsion, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>warmth</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Somewhere in those blood red optics, I felt as though I saw myself. There was something in him that we shared, as if we knew something the entire world couldn’t even begin to understand. And it frightened me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In just two stellar cycles, I had become a socialite, a graduate, a mech in mourning, and a lover of death. My mind couldn’t take the weight of it all. I needed structure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I returned to work. They were overjoyed to have me. After all, I was one of the smartest students they’d ever had in their millions of years in operation. Now, alone in my laboratory, I could </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>. My servos wrote equation after equation, mixing toxic chemicals, scraped oil from specimens, but my mind was not with them. I have always had a clearer mind when working with science.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the moons and sun passed through the windows above me, I began to consider who I was. I was young, but I was intelligent. Not only myself, but my people. What had I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> seen in the gladiatorial pits? Had I seen mindless slaughter, or had I witnessed a demonstration? The mech I watched emerge victorious was more than just a killer. He didn’t kill for parts, or energon. He didn’t kill for fame. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>something, a concept I had yet to grasp. These gladiatorial pits were not a passing fad. They were here to stay, and I had a feeling that they were just the beginning. I scoured the news for his name, but they refused to acknowledge him, perhaps to insult him, or, more likely, struggling to ignore a name that could not remain unspoken for much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question that lay most heavily on my mind could not be shaken: What part did I play in all of this? Was I just another witness? I tried to ignore the truth, but I failed. I had enjoyed watching the weaker mechs fall, left behind to make way for the strong, the victorious. I wanted to taste that victory. I knew I was not a mech built for the pits. I was not born to walk upon the ground. The champion I had seen in the pits had not been built to walk upon the ground, either. Whoever built him had given him a grounder’s body, but I had seen so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his optics. Like me, he was meant to climb, and from his combat, I saw that he was willing to trudge through the deepest rust and claw over the bodies of his brethren to get there. I would be waiting for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just needed to know his name.</span>
</p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. A Brush with Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Returning to the pits to learn the same of the mystery champion, Starscream saves the life of an unexpected guest. He is given a lucrative offer in return.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="resolved">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>The arena was the same as I had left it, lights dancing in the sky and intimidating as ever. I allowed myself to fall into the crowd, but I wasn’t here to watch the fights. I was here to meet someone.</p><p>I managed to find a seat on the second floor. It was darker, mustier, and a bit more frightening with the substantially larger mechs who sat beside me, but in return, I was given a much better view of the stage.</p><p>The night unfolded just as before, mech killing mech, smashing helms and spraying energon into the bleachers, but I wasn’t paying attention. I spent my night scanning the bleachers for the mech who had initially invited me here, but the strobing lights, pounding music, and building smoke made that task increasingly difficult.</p><p>The booming announcement of the champion’s imminent arrival yanked my attention back to the stage. I couldn’t fight my grin as I leaned forward for a better look.</p><p>My champion sauntered to the stage, much to the delight of the crowd, screaming and bouncing around me. I had never seen anyone summon quite a reaction from such a large audience. I now knew that my initial belief that these gladiatorial pits were a sport was completely false. As their cries pierced my audials, I understood the true appeal of the pits: Barbarism. The only goal was to <em> win </em>, and even the slightest hint of weakness would have you killed.</p><p>Like before, he refused to utter a word, choosing instead to simply wave to the crowd with a stoic expression. For a moment, I wondered if he even enjoyed fighting. The gashes on his body did not carry a sense of pride.</p><p>His opponent advanced to the opposing side of the stage, a much more formidable enemy than last time, I thought. This mech was composed, focused, and undeniably frightening. He did not mock the champion or try to provoke him. He simply reached over his shoulder, pulling out a titanium broadsword. Rather than last time, I could see that these mechs were fighting to survive. This fight would not be for glory. This fight would be for the chance to see the impending sunrise.</p><p>The champion nodded, perhaps out of respect, and wielded the same mining axe as before. It burst to life, ejecting spindles of electricity that zapped its master’s arms. I raised a servo to my face and found that I was flushed.</p><p>The final horn would not cry. The audience grew restless, and so did the champions. They lowered their weapons, just as clueless as I was.</p><p>I turned to the grounder beside me. “What’s going o-.”</p><p>I could not finish my question, as my voice was drowned out by the explosion of angry cries from the crowd. The upper levels had focused on the open ceiling of the arena and I strained to look out from the fence keeping us from falling forward.</p><p>A blazing white light cascaded over the arena. I squint my optics, my senses assaulted. The crowd erupted in panic, and I only had an astro second to lunge forward to duck the myriad of mechs scrambling for the exit.</p><p>“Scrap! Enforcers!” Someone shouted beside me. I pressed myself up against the chain link fence before me, flattening my wings in a desperate attempt to avoid being crushed by the terror-stricken fans.</p><p>“NO ONE WILL BE ARRESTED TONIGHT. I WISH TO SPEAK WITH THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN NAMED MEGATRON,” a voice boomed from the blinding light, and though I had never before heard that name, I knew he wanted the champion.</p><p>The arena watched in awe as a mech descended from the light. As soon as I could see his face, I recognized this bot as the senator. A crimson cape billowed in the wind, falling from his helm to his pedes, and the gelded staff in his servo glimmered brilliantly. The senator, I felt, was old enough to have been plucked right out of a cybertronian legend.</p><p>The silver and plum mech reached the stage, stepping down from the hovering platform. Silence fell over the crowd. We knew we were witnessing something momentous.</p><p>“Are you the one called Megatron?” the senator finally spoke, his voice steady. The platform that had carried him to the stage rose to the ship without its passenger.</p><p>The champion disabled his axe, magnetizing it to his hip. He nodded. His opponent stepped back, either out of respect or trepidation.</p><p>“I am here to discuss a peaceful end to this needless slaughter,” the senator boomed. “These mindless battles will only lead to your arrest.”</p><p><br/>Megatron smirked, and even from the second floor, I could feel the irritation radiating from his spark. “These battles are not mindless. Every murder carries a message.” His voice was deep, intimidating, and intelligent, as if every word was hand picked with thorough consideration.</p><p>“What message could possibly come from killing your brothers and sisters?” The senator cried, growing quite upset. He raised a digit to point at the chest of the champion. “You cannot wear a crudely crafted badge and call yourself a messiah.”</p><p>“I have never once called myself a messiah,” Megatron growled, “and I do not <em> murder </em> my brothers and sisters. I am seeking out the victorious so that I may lead them to utopia.”</p><p>The senator raised his staff, letting it glide through his digits to slam against the floor. “This is not a utopia! This is madness! You will only lead them to their execution!”</p><p>Megatron frowned. “Death is an illusion, senator. You could execute every one of us and it would not prevent the inevitable.”</p><p>“The inevitable? Do tell, what is the inevitable?”</p><p>The grin that formed on Megaron’s lips sent chills through my spark. “Tyranny.”</p><p>The senator gawked, physically offended. “I have heard quite enough. If you continue with this barbaric massacre, I will have no choice but to call upon the enforcers to arrest you. After that, I cannot promise that you will have the chance to grow old.”</p><p>The crowd grew furious, crying out and clamoring to advance upon the senator. Megatron reached down, gripping the handle of his axe.</p><p>“If there is no place for you in my vision of Cybertron, then I will remove you from it,” Megatron rumbled.</p><p>My breath caught in my vents. This wasn’t right! The opponents here had <em> chosen </em>to fight. They accepted the possibility of their deaths. This senator did not. What honor was there in killing an unarmed, aging mech?</p><p>I reached forward, gripping the chain link fence. The crowd cheered in my audials, provoking Megatron to kill. With a strength previously unknown, I ripped the fence apart, just wide enough for me to climb through. The ship’s white light blinded me as I threw myself into the air, my wings swinging forward to carry me down to the stage. I landed before the senator, raising my wings and arms to shield him from Megatron’s rising axe.</p><p>The crowd cried out in frustration. I met the champion’s gaze, and for a moment, I felt as though I had been reduced to a sparkling, cowering before a rabid turbofox.</p><p>I found my voice. “You have more honor than this.”</p><p>Megatron’s crimson optics pierced my own, but he had heard me. He exhaled, and the grip on his axe faltered.</p><p>“Let him go,” I whispered. “There are other ways to resolve this.”</p><p>I held my ground, and I prayed that Megatron could not see my shaking legs.</p><p>At last, Megatron lowered his weapon.</p><p>“<em> No </em> !” The crowd taunted. “ <em> Kill him! Kill them both! </em>”</p><p>Megatron raised a hand, silencing the crowd.</p><p>I turned back, wrapping my arms around the senator’s waist and engaged my thrusters. The crowd's curses followed me as we flew to the ship waiting above the arena.</p><p>I lowered the senator onto the balcony, but he gripped my hand when I tried to leave.</p><p>“I wouldn’t go back down there if I were you,” he cautioned. I followed him into the transport ship, but to my surprise, it was vacant.</p><p>“I thought the senate would travel with more of an entourage,” I remarked, watching the arena fade from view as our pilot climbed the sky.</p><p>The senator took a seat, holding his staff between his legs and mentioning beside him. “We do. Tonight was my little secret.”</p><p><br/>I smiled, crossing my arms. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”</p><p>He shrugged, letting out a gentle chuckle. “I’ve been on this world for a long time, little seeker. I’ve seen more danger in my lifetime than you ever will.”</p><p>I smirked. “Don’t call me a little seeker, senator.”</p><p>He laughed, shaking his helm and placing a gentle servo on my arm. “You’re a new model, I can tell. You’ve been alive, what, three hundred years?”</p><p>I paused. “Three hundred fifty.”</p><p>The senator grinned, but he was not mocking me. “Young <em> and </em>tiny. Two things I haven’t been for quite a few years.”</p><p>“Seekers might be short, but we <em> aren’t </em>helpless.”</p><p>The senator’s grin softened. “Oh, I know. Why do you think you were willing to stand between an old mech and a gladiator? It’s in your CNA to protect. I’ll bet that was the first time you’ve come face to face with death.”</p><p>I looked away. “Well, that wasn’t the first time I’ve seen death.”</p><p>“I’m sure it wasn’t.” The senator stood, using his staff to support himself as he walked to the windows that overlooked the Kaon desert. “You may be young, but even you can see the changes coming to our people.”</p><p>My arms uncrossed, falling to clasp together on my legs. “Do you really think it isn’t just a fad? The pits?”</p><p>The senator raised his staff and let it fall, clearly a habit. “Cybertron’s peace is long overdrawn. Perhaps we never had peace to begin with, only eras of purgatory. I wish I could protect your generation from what is coming, but I worry that I may have been the reason for its creation.”</p><p>I rose from my seat, walking up to the senator. “What do you mean? What’s coming?”</p><p>The senator turned to face me, smiling weakly. “I’m not sure what to call it, but I have a feeling that deaths will reach the millions.”</p><p>My tanks churned. “Gee, thanks for the warning.”</p><p>He slapped a hand to my shoulder. “I fear that I can do nothing more than give you a fighting chance.”</p><p>Eventually, we reached the outskirts of Vos. The senator remained at his post, gazing over the city like a carrier. I had the ominous feeling that he was enjoying the view while it lasted.</p><p>As we drew nearer to the heart of the city, I joined him again at the window. “I live at the Academy, by the way.”</p><p><br/>The senator nodded. “We know.”</p><p>I glanced at the locked door of the cockpit. “But I never told you my address.”</p><p>The senator met my optic. “You could say that the senate prides itself in being close to its people.”</p><p>The transport ship lowered to the faculty’s balcony and its doors slid open. The senator took my servo and helped me step down to the tile of my birthplace.</p><p>“You’re a scientist here, right?” The senator inquired as he withdrew. “You must not make very much.”</p><p>I smirked. “I’m more than satisfied with my salary, and you could have the decency to at least <em> pretend </em>that you don’t stalk your own citizens.”</p><p>The senator smiled. “Your taste in polish is immaculate. You obviously like to shine brighter than the stars. There’s an untouched world of prosperity waiting for you, if you’d like to come in.”</p><p>I grimaced. “Creepy.”</p><p>The senator shook his helm. “I’m just observing. You saved my life tonight, and if you’d like to continue doing so, I’d love to compensate you.”</p><p>A ping rang from my forearm. I opened my messenger module, gasping when I read the numbers ticking across the screen.</p><p>“You can’t be serious!” I yelped. “All I did was carry you back to your ship!”</p><p>He grinned, as if I was a wild animal he had finally tamed. “Like I said, you saved my life. And you have expensive tastes.”</p><p>“I can’t accept this,” I stammered. “Undo the transaction.”</p><p><br/>“A beautiful seeker on my arm is nothing to be ashamed of,” he retorted, “and I’m getting too old to pretend that I can still protect myself. You’re a fierce one, and I want those claws beside me, ready to strike.”</p><p>I scoffed. “Look, I may be beautiful, but I’m not a seeker who can be <em> rented </em>.”</p><p>“I don’t intend to rent you. I want to <em> employ </em> you.” The senator stepped back, taking a seat at the opposing end of the transport. “Think about it, and if you come to your better senses, come work for me. You may enjoy being a scientist, but you’re an exquisite breed. If you visit me in Crystal City within a week to discuss the terms of your employment, I’ll pay you <em> triple </em>that amount.</p><p>I crossed my arms, stepping back towards the Academy doors. “What, as a bribe?”</p><p>“As a daily rate.”</p><p>The doors to the transport slid shut, leaving me speechless. I stood on the balcony long after the ship had flown away, ruminating over the events of my life thus far.</p><p>Perhaps it was time for a change.</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Crystal City</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Now the employed body guard of Senator Proteus, Starscream enjoys the high caste lifestyle in Crystal City. The loss of Jetfire hangs heavily behind him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div class="resolved">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <span>That was how my employment with the senator began. I didn’t do much of anything, really. I was just there to look frightening and, time to time, be a pretty mech on his arm for public image.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shell of a student had chipped the moment I lost Jetfire, and as I watched the movers pack up my suite at the Academy, I could feel the pieces falling away. Now, a young adult seeker, I was about to be on my own. The Academy had given me shelter, but Jetfire had raised me, a sparkling who chose to raise another sparkling almost on his own. Jetfire had spread my wings, taught me about the jets and the planes, and now, I had only his memory to carry me into adulthood. As I followed realtors as they guided me through apartments the senator had picked out for me, I hoped that I would pick the right home. But even when I crouched low to the ground and picked at the welding of the floorboards, like Jetfire had taught me, I knew I was lying to myself if I said I knew how to spot cheap construction. I regretted not paying closer attention when Jetfire had taught me everything he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a substantially increased pay grade and compensated housing, I packed a final bag, bid my farewell to the Academy, and moved to Crystal City to work full time for the senator. Yes, I was a scientist, and still am, but I was young, foolish, and a sucker for shiny things. Crystal City was the embodiment of shiny, and I touched down in a penthouse suite on the top floor of its second tallest skyscraper. Here, high above the clouds, I felt like I could </span>
  <em>
    <span>soar</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The stars were only an arm’s reach, and I had a ludicrously large bed installed below the window of my ceiling. Late at night, on restless nights, when my thoughts drifted to the memory of Jetfire, I found myself imagining my lifeless body floating peacefully among the endless expanse of space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crystal City, though grounder founded, boasted a diversity of flyers and grounders alike. The roads were gorgeous, I must admit, a medley of colors that reflected the light of its skyscrapers, bending and twisting through the city with grace. For a fan of art, a seeker like me couldn’t help but appreciate the flawless angles that allowed grounders to race from one extravagant event to another without a passing thought of leaning off the throttle. The blend of roads and meticulously placed buildings felt never too far from Vos. Yes, there were grounders, but there were just as many airbornes to ease my homesickness. If I’m being completely honest, I could have lived out my life in that Crystal City penthouse, gliding above the clouds, embraced by the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hated to admit it at the time, but the senator was right: I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> enjoy exquisite tastes. The first month of my employment, the senator had boxes of gifts sent to my door. Every time, I dumped the contents on my berth and spent hours reading the labels, struggling to understand the ingredients. Even as a chemist, I couldn’t understand how someone could have managed to craft such pleasing creams and scents. He sent waxes, polishes, oils, perfumes, fabrics, and desserts that I had never seen. I hadn’t even known such a world existed, where a mech could treat themselves like a piece of art, never to be touched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The senator was not trying to pursue me, I quickly realized. He wanted nothing more than friendship, and for that, I was grateful. The senator only sent these gifts because he knew I liked them, not because he wanted to buy me over. He could see that I was worth more than a student, and he had the money and status to show me the high caste world of Cybertron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few weeks of adjusting to my new home, my work for the senator began. By the end of the first week, I realized what the senator really wanted. He didn’t want a bodyguard, he wanted a gorgeous mech to show off, and, if needed, command to kill. I wasn’t offended by his intentions, and if I’m being honest, I was amused. Before meeting him, I had believed that the senate spent their lives in hearings and meetings, but now I understood the </span>
  <em>
    <span>game </span>
  </em>
  <span>they played, a constant competition of materialistic grandeur, and I was more than happy to be a knight for the senator. I wasn’t interested in hoarding the money I earned. I had more than I knew what to do with, and I spent it on being able to never leave my house for other than work and the occasional flight. With a berth like this, why would I leave it? My meals were delivered from the finest restaurants in the city, and every errand I could think of could be done by someone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I slept like an Earthling lion, stuffing myself with deletable meals and covering myself with silk blankets to sleep off the depression that hung over my berth like a hawk, waiting for the slightest falter to strike. I had no energy to return to the pits, and honestly, after getting in the way of Megatron’s kill, I felt it would be smarter to keep my distance for a few stellar cycles. Not only did the fear keep me from the pits, so did the work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The senator and I began our day after his hearings, usually around sundown. I would meet him at the capitol where the Cybertronian government called home. I never had to fly, if I didn’t want to. The senator always had a private transport sent to my balcony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The years I spent alongside the senator were frivolous and empty, but, then again, so are seekers.</span>
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  <p> </p>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Midnight Conjux</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Enjoying the lucrative life of a senator's bodyguard, Starscream finds his true calling when faced with the dark reality of Cybertron's midnight conjuxes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am SO SORRY for the delay, but I am back at it and ready to write about this little screamy boi &lt;3 Please feel free to follow @gupybot, my twitter, for updates!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p></div><p>I slouched in the seat of the senator’s transport, dragging a file along my claws. They had always grown quickly, especially as a sparkling, giggling and swiping at Jetfire as he struggled to learn how to bathe me. During the years before the war, the candid memories of Jetfire followed closely behind boredom.</p><p>I shook my helm, as if to shake off the past. “Do we have another bottle of Engex?” I prodded, knocking once against the cockpit door.</p><p>“Certainly,” the pilot replied. The wall behind me slid open with a <em> hiss </em>, offering an overpriced bottle of chilled Engex. I reached back, pulling out two moonstone glasses.</p><p>As I struggled to twist the cap of the bottle, the pilot cleared his vocalizer over the intercom. “I believe the senator will be attending a dinner with the senate tonight. Perhaps you should wait for him to start drinking?”</p><p>I scowled. “Stop being such a carrier,” I snapped, pouring a glass for the pilot. By now, I had learned tricks that stopped mechs from reminding me of my questionable habits. “Open up.”</p><p>The cockpit door swung open and I reached in, pouring my own glass with my other servo on the seat next to me.</p><p>The pilot accepted the glass with a sigh. “You know, I really shouldn’t be drinking on the job.”</p><p>“Grow a pair and loosen up,” I murmured before shutting the door with a pede.</p><p>The transport doors folded away, revealing an agitated senator. He huffed, magnetizing his staff to the wall before taking a seat beside me. “Pour me one of those, won’t you?”</p><p>I handed him my glass and the Senator took a sip, knocking on the roof of the transport. We ascended the skies, leaving the Capitol behind.</p><p>I poured another drink for myself, finishing it in one swig. “One of those days?”</p><p>“This government is a mess,” the senator grumbled. “They refuse to acknowledge those pits in Kaon, even as the numbers of attendance grow. The number of unsolved murders have tripled in the past three stellar cycles, you know that? Bunch of thugs, I say, killing for sport. I keep telling them to send in enforcers and shut it down.”</p><p>I shrugged, picking up the file on my leg and resuming my work. I’d never tell him, but the senator was wrong. The gladiators weren’t thugs, not all of them.</p><p>“That Megatron fellow, he’s a dangerous one,” the senator continued, talking to himself rather than to me. “He has a way of making his fans believe their actions are justified, that the killing has a message.”</p><p>Without thinking, I whispered, “That’s because it does.”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>I sighed, slipping the file into the storage compartment of my arm. “They’re killing each other for energon, not for sport. I saw it myself. There’s more to the pits than just death.”</p><p>The senator shook his helm. “When I terminated their employment on Luna Two, I told Senator Decimus to offer them resources to transition back to Cybertron. I had a tax plan laid out for them, but instead of letting down their pride, what did they do? They turned to mindless violence. Megatron drove an axe right into Senator Decimus’s chassi.</p><p>My fans stopped turning. “I didn’t know that.” I recalled the mining axe that Megatron had chosen to fight with in the pit. I wondered if it was the same one that he used to attack Senator Decimus.</p><p>“Of course you didn’t,” he grumbled. “That’s classified information, mind you, so don’t go out spouting about it.”</p><p>“I’m sure there’s more to the story, Senator,” I asserted sheepishly. “Mechs don’t drive axes into their senate without reason.”</p><p>“<em>Huh</em>! Is that what you think?” The senator stroked his chin, his voice tinged with disappointment. “Stay away from him, Starscream. At your age, it’s frighteningly easy to be won over by a charming mech with a nonsensical dream and a <em>manifesto</em>.”</p><p>“He has a manifesto?”</p><p>The senator grumbled a curse, mentioning for me to pour another glass. “We aren’t sure if it’s his, but a datapad full of poetry was sent to our courtroom last stellar cycle. Every page had something scathing to say, but I must admit, they were quite eloquent poems.”</p><p>I smirked. I enjoyed the information I received in this line of work. I heard things that no normal citizen would have access to, and with a bit of Engex, the senator was more than happy to answer my questions.</p><p>“So, he’s been taunting the senate recently?” I whispered, handing over an unnecessarily full glass.</p><p>The senator shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I overheard Sentinel Prime discussing insider information that Megatron is building a <em> fanclub </em> of sorts, mechs intoxicated by his words and blindly following his new mantra.”</p><p>My optics were torn from the window by his words. “Mantra?”</p><p>The senator paused. “<em>You are being deceived</em>, and I have an ugly feeling that Megatron is referring to us.”</p><p>I grinned, watching our transport near the space bridge on the outskirts of Crystal City. A motto like that was so typical of Megatron, even in the days before I met him. The senator’s warning rang in my audials, that a mech with an eloquent vocabulary and a dream could somehow <em> win </em> me over, but I couldn’t deny the fascination growing in my spark.</p><p>“Do you think I could take a look at this <em> mystery </em>poetry?” I implored, feigning indifference.</p><p>“Absolutely not,” the senator snapped. “I may be old, but I know when a mech is <em> starstruck </em> . I’m warning you, Starscream, stay <em> away </em> from Megatron. He will only bring you sparkbreak and confusion.”</p><p>I shook my helm, stubborn as ever. “I’m not as weak as you think.”</p><p>The transport passed through the space bridge, bypassing the line of ships waiting to pass through to Velocitron, the capital of racing for cybertronians, an adrenaline junkie’s paradise. Glistening roads spun as high as mountains, curved to the ground for exhilarating dives. I enjoyed the lights that lined every building, sign, and track, neons of every color bent into appealing shapes and accents to intoxicate the optic.</p><p>The senator readjusted in his seat, the both of us having been shaken during our passage through the spacebridge. “Don’t mistake my words for mockery. I say these things to you because I know you’re smart enough to get tangled in cybertron’s politics. I see leadership in your future.”</p><p><br/>
I blinked. “Leadership? Don’t be silly.”</p><p>“I’m serious. You have an appeal that demands attention, and if you embrace it, I think you could demand respect as well.”</p><p>Our transport settled at the entrance of <em>Speedway Velositron</em> and the doors slid open. I rose to my pedes, but the senator gripped my servo with a vice grip.</p><p>“Ow!” I snapped, glaring back at him. “Why do you insist on <em>grabbing</em> me?”</p><p>The senator ignored my qualms. “Starscream, listen to me. I appreciate your political insight, but you’re going to have to keep it to yourself tonight. Sentinel Prime has a hard time seeing the <em>value </em>of a seeker’s intellect.”</p><p>I scoffed. This would be my first time meeting Sentinel Prime, and admittedly, from the stories I heard from the senator, I was a tad nervous.</p><p>Allegedly, he had quite a short temper. “It’s not my fault that you rusty bots have outdated opinions,” I hissed.</p><p>The senator shook his head. “Try to understand. Sentinel Prime and I are from a time when seekers had little to no rights as sentient beings. To him, those old ways are still justified. He sees seekers as <em>accessories</em>, and I need you to protect yourself by keeping your mouth <em>shut</em>.”</p><p><br/>
I grimaced. Long before my emergence, seekers were seen as nothing more of a reproductive <em>indulgence</em>, but thanks to hundreds of years of protests and gruesome displays by revolutionaries, seekers had quickly climbed the ladder of social hierarchy in the safety of Vos.</p><p>“Walk behind me tonight,” the senator instructed, forgiveness in his voice. “Accept his drinks, act clueless, and you’ll be the highlight of his evening.”</p><p>“And why should I?” I growled. “I should just wait here if I’m expected to be your <em>pet</em> for the night.”</p><p>“Starscream, you never have been and never <em> will </em> be my pet.” The senator pulled gently on my wrist, mentioning for me to sit beside him. “Believe me when I say I see your worth. Sentinel Prime sees your worth too, but his idea of value is physical. To him, seekers are the most beautiful mechs in the universe, and if he sees me with you, he may be more willing to hear my words.”</p><p>“Ooh, I see. I’m your <em> bribe </em>?!” I snapped, ripping my servo from his grasp.</p><p>The senator huffed. “<em>No</em>, Starscream. You are simply helping me pave the way for a brighter future. The Senate has been begging Sentinel to sign our tax reform, but he is a stubborn mech. You can help rebuild roads and fund our schools. Wouldn’t you like that?”</p><p>My optics burned holes in his helm, but I grit my denta and nodded begrudgingly.</p><p>“Thank you, Starscream. I’ll make this up to you.”</p><p>We stepped out of the transport, the both of us forcing on our brightest smiles. The crowd cheered around us, welcoming the senate with open arms.</p><p>Inside the Speedway, an entourage of guards led the way to our private viewing area, a glass walled dining room with an enviable view of the racers warming their tires on the crystal track. The blinds had been pulled between our rooms, no doubt shielding the private meetings of senators and high caste scum alike. My cheeks burned with shame as I took my seat beside the senator, kneeling on plush cushions along the low titanium table.</p><p>Sentinel Prime arrived shortly after us, accompanied by a rose colored seeker who kept her optics on the floor. They took their seats and the seeker gave me a nod of acknowledgement, settling in beside me.</p><p>A siren blared and the races began. The drinks before us began to tremble from the vibrations of thundering tires against slick crystal. I took my glass and held it between my knees.</p><p>As the night progressed, I felt myself tuning out of the senators’ conversation. Racing never interested me, though I kept my eyes on the track in an attempt to keep Sentinel Prime from noticing me, though I felt his gaze travel to my wings throughout the night. Why the senator had decided to seat the seekers between them, I had no clue, but I had a feeling it had something to do with <em> temptation </em>.</p><p>Finally, the senator’s patience expired. “Sentinel Prime, have you given any thought to that tax reform I mentioned earlier?”</p><p>I rolled my optics. Smooth.</p><p>Sentinel Prime waved a servo in disapproval. “Oh, spare me the grief of politics, Senator Proteus. I came here to enjoy a race, not to discuss <em> taxes </em>.”</p><p>“If you’d like to get a better look, I hear the bridge below us is an excellent view.” The senator was already rising from his seat.</p><p>Sentinel Prime sighed indignantly. “Very well. I’ll give you <em>five </em>clicks to persuade me to sign that damned bill.”</p><p>The senator gave me a playful nudge to the wing before leading Sentinel Prime to the door of our suite. I tried to suppress my surprise that the plan had actually worked.</p><p>The door shut and I turned to the waiter standing in the corner. “I’d like some fresh Engex, please,” I purred, shaking my glass. “My ice seems to have melted.”</p><p>The waiter nodded and slipped out, leaving the seeker and I in silence.</p><p>“You seem to be a little young to be a bodyguard,” I murmured, reaching forward to swipe a truffle from the senator’s plate.</p><p>“Bodyguard?” The seeker’s voice was gentle and shy, as if she hadn’t expected me to acknowledge her presence. “I’m not a bodyguard.”</p><p>I smirked, looking down at her. “Then what are you?”</p><p>She shifted uncomfortably on her knees.</p><p>I immediately regret my words, sliding away to give her some space. “Sorry, that was rude of me. I suppose I haven’t seen all of Crystal City’s culture quite yet.”</p><p>“Are you from Vos?” She whispered, adjusting to a more comfortable position on the floor.</p><p>I nodded, smiling gently. “Yeah, you?”<br/>
She didn’t reciprocate the smile. “To be honest, I can’t remember. My memories are a bit hazy before my lessons began.”</p><p>“Lessons?” I offered her a drink, but she declined. “What lessons?”</p><p>After an uncomfortable silence, she spoke. “You really don’t know what I am, do you?”</p><p>I didn’t sense mockery in her tone. I shook my helm.</p><p>“Less fortunate seekers come to Crystal City for a second chance at success. My carrier sent me to the city to become a <em> midnight conjux </em>.”</p><p>I smirked, utterly confused. The seeker flushed, breaking the gaze and crossing her arms bashfully, as if to cover herself.</p><p>“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” I stammered, leaning forward to touch her servo. “I just don’t know what a midnight conjux is.”</p><p>“It’s a very lucrative career, if you’re successful.” She returned to her cushion at the table, her optics locked on the track below, though I think her mind was elsewhere. “Mechs all over Cybertron pay for our company, sometimes for ridiculous prices. This is my first time with a member of the senate. Luck of the draw, I suppose.”</p><p>I slid beside her, forcing my judgements down beneath the surface. “I hope this doesn’t come out the wrong way, but it sounds like you’re actually <em>happy </em>that you’re getting paid to sit next to a well known mech all night? You haven’t said a word since you got here.”</p><p>She smiled bashfully, meeting my gaze. “You’ve lived a very fortunate life. I’m happy for you.”</p><p>“You haven’t?” I smirked. “You’re getting paid to look pretty and say nothing.”</p><p>Her smile faded. “I don’t think you understand.”</p><p>I slid closer, taking her servo in my own. “I want to. Please, tell me what a midnight conjux is.”</p><p>She clutched my servo with meek desperation. “We are nothing but memories and playthings.”</p><p>My optics narrowed, then widened in horror as I processed her words. My grip tightened. “How can you stand to live like this?”</p><p>The seeker considered her next words carefully, breaking our gaze. Her optics fell to the floor in shame. “I was abandoned as a sparkling. Most of us were. I have no family to run to, and even if I did, we are bound by contract. This is the life I have been given.”</p><p>The door slid open and the senators returned, buzzing joyously between themselves. I looked to the seeker, but she had already returned to her seat, as if I hadn’t even been in the room. I cleared my vocalizer and helped the senator down to his knees.</p><p>The night passed quickly after my conversation with the midnight conjux. My mind raced, confusion mixed with anger. Why hadn’t anyone told me about these slaves to pleasure? I clenched my servos under the table, my claws digging into my palms, at one point drawing a bead of energon. Every time the racers passed our window, the room vibrated violently and the echoes of screeching tires drowned out our voices. As their headlights blinded me, I fantasized about lunging for Sentinel Prime’s neck. I wondered which tubes could kill a mech if ripped open. I rubbed my palm, dripping with energon, imagining the feel of this pink seeker’s servo in my own as I carried her into the night, taking her far, far away from this wretched life she had been thrust into. Would the Academy let me have a lab assistant?</p><p>By the time the racers passed the finish line, I could only see two possible outcomes to my valiant plan. In one, Sentinel Prime would easily deflect my untrained, uncoordinated attack, and I would be imprisoned for the foreseeable future for treason. In the other, I rescue <em> one </em> midnight conjux, leaving <em> hundreds </em>behind.</p><p>The Senator had to shake me to regain my attention when it was finally time to head back to Cybertron. I rose to my pedes and took his arm, walking alongside Sentinel Prime and his <em> plaything </em> as we ambled to the passenger ships waiting for us. I said nothing. What could I have said? Sentinel Prime had <em> no </em> reason to listen to a physically alluring seeker without a scrap of political power. I grit my denta and nodded to the pair as we part ways.</p><p>“Sentinel Proteus, you should bring this friend of yours to more of our little get togethers,” Sentinel Prime purred. It took the senator a harsh nudge to the shoulder for me to realize they were talking about me.</p><p>I grit my denta so tightly that I felt something snap. I considered the final possibility of blasting a hole through his spark with my thruster. The senator nudged me again and I wrenched a smile onto my face, but I refused to meet his gaze. If I had, I may have lost the last shred of logical thought in my processor.</p><p>The senator held the door open for me when we boarded our private ship. As we drifted away from <em> Speedway Velositron </em> , I kept my optics glued to the window. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to the senator on our way home. I realized with disgust and seething <em> rage </em> that I had once <em> admired </em> the senator. He had been a role model of sorts, a mech I had previous thought of as a level headed shepherd of the people. Now, I saw the truth: A vain, <em> counterfeit </em> excuse for a leader, and a disgrace to Cybertron. I was a naive little seeker, but I knew what kind of information he had access to. His ignorance was a facade. He knew about midnight conjuxes, and he had made the decision to <em> ignore </em> their existence. My own race were being sold like cattle, and he had decided to instead worry about his <em> public image </em>.</p><p>“You should be happy,” the senator beamed beside me. “Sentinel Prime personally asked for <em> you </em> at our gatherings. In all my years, I have never heard him ask for <em> anyone’s </em>company.”</p><p>My spark had never burned brighter. I saw a vision before me, a sunrise that shrouded my fate in gorgeous, glimmering rays of golden light. I was to <em> lead </em> . I was to <em> cleanse </em> the sin of my forefathers. Science and vanity would be my advisors, and I could <em> force </em> the ignorant to see the true face of Cybertron. I would bring them to their knees and yank their optics to the surface, allowing them to finally see the truth, that seekers were no longer going to be traded and sold like property. We were the dominant form, the most magnificent creation of our ancestors. How could a mech that lived restrained to the <em> ground </em>truly see Cybertron for her beauty?</p><p>I smiled, gazing at the stars above us as we docked at the balcony of my apartment. I hadn’t seen such a beautiful sky since the day I first took flight.</p><p>“Senator, may I ask a favor?” I purred as I stepped down from the ship.</p><p>The senator was drunk with foolish pride. “Tonight, you could ask me for utter control of the senate, and I’d be damned if I didn’t make it happen.”</p><p>I grinned with twinkling optics, though my spark was brimming with resentment. I decided right then and there that this would be the last favor I ask of <em> any </em> mech. After tonight, they would come to me <em> begging </em> on their knees for even a moment of my time.</p><p>“I’d like to begin accompanying you to hearings with the senate.”</p><p>The senator blinked, left momentarily speechless. “I suppose I could arrange a seat in the audience for you, but why?”</p><p>I smiled, feigning innocence. “Why, senator, didn’t you say you saw leadership in my future?”</p><p>A clueless grin spread across his rusting cheeks. “I suppose I did. Your wish is my command, little seeker.”</p><p>Behind my back, my claws were digging into my wrists. “Thank you, Senator,” I giggled.</p><p> </p><p>As I awoke the next morning, I realized that if I were to lead, I could no longer listen to the restrictions of those around me. I needed <em> power </em> , I needed <em> connections </em>. But who on Cybertron could possibly bestow unlimited amounts of blind confidence and raw strength upon me? Who would be foolish enough to take on the challenge of turning an underdeveloped seeker into the supreme ruler of Cybertron?</p><p>“Megatron,” I whispered to the velvet canopy above me.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Senate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream is given the opportunity to sit in at senate hearings. He begins recording as much information as he can to climb the ranks of Cybertron.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <p> </p>
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</div><p>But I couldn’t just <em> march </em> up to Megatron and demand his unyielding loyalty. At this point, I was a mere bodyguard to the very mech who had imprisoned Megatron and his comrades. What reason would he have to trust me? As far as I knew, Megatron had no financial or political power. In fact, all he had was the support of criminals and spectators alike, yet I knew there was strength in numbers. If I could somehow gain the same adoration from his doting fans, I could use those numbers to <em> claw </em> my way to the top of Cybertron, to finally rule with a titanium fist. I had only one concern: Would Megatron demand shared command? Megatron was not some spark throb underdog turned messiah. This was a mech with <em> desire </em> , and just as much drive as mine, if not more. I already admired Megatron, but I was <em> not </em> willing to share the throne. If I was going to do this, <em> I </em>was going to be the one to lead. No one else.</p><p>The senator was true to his word. The very next morning, I was offered the chance to follow my employer into the heart of the senate itself. I was led through heavy security and multiple weapons scans to a large colosseum type courtroom. The senator brought me to <em> his </em>seat beside his colleagues, waving away all thoughts of doubt with the word “bodyguard”. They brought me a seat and I was seated just above the senator’s booth.</p><p>The meetings themselves were <em> horribly </em> boring, but the information I learned proved worth every second of staring aimlessly at the floor, twiddling my thumbs. I kept my expression apathetic, but my memory banks took <em> written </em> notes of the senate’s words, a habit I quickly learned was illegal. I may have appeared disinterested, but my spark swelled with pride. I had grown from a clueless valedictorian to a <em> seeker </em> who had infiltrated the inner realm, the very <em> soul, </em> of the government. I wondered what Jetfire would think, but, then again, I was always wondering what Jetfire would think. As I scanned the audience around us, taking photos to store in my memory core, I realized that I was the <em> only </em> seeker at <em> every </em> hearing. I wanted the midnight conjux to know I was here. I wanted every seeker to know I was here, that I was ready to fight for their freedom, their future, their inevitable superior treatment from <em> all </em>living beings.</p><p>Not surprisingly, the political unrest of Cybertron was <em> much </em> worse than whatever they reported on the news. In less than a stellar cycle, I had learned all but everything about the blooming instability, and whatever confused me, I could bribe out of the senator with a flick of my wings and an empty compliment. What upset me most was not the senate’s infuriating ability to ignore the concerns of their people, it was the complete and utter <em> disregard </em> for the intelligence of the energon minors.</p><p>“They’ve spent their entire lives breathing in toxic gases and hammering away at <em> rocks </em>,” Ratbat once said in passing. “How can they expect us to listen to them? They never even learned how to read.”</p><p>I grimaced at his words. Ratbat was a slimy, <em> devious </em> mech who could only bring trouble to my master plan of leadership. However, I recognized his influence. If I could somehow get him to obey <em> me </em>, I knew he would be a strong asset.</p><p>And what right did they have to call the miners <em> stupid </em> ? The only time they had even met with a miner was when my senator met with Megatron at the pits, and I had yanked him from the arena too quickly for any progress to be made. I knew Megatron was brilliant, even if not as brilliant as me. I needed a way to read his poetry, but every time I asked the senator for a chance to even glance at Megatron’s work, he refused. After a while, he began <em> ignoring </em> me.</p><p>My time with the senate was one of the most productive times of my life. I grew not only as a seeker, but as a citizen of Cybertron. I saw her potential, but I knew that Cybertron needed <em> help </em> if she were to grow, and it certainly wouldn’t come from this rusty old group of functionally fading mechs.</p><p>My life became mechanical and emotionless, like the hearings I recorded in my memory core. I no longer had a desire for polish and fine dining. I had become a computer, deaf to the audial for anything other than information regarding politics and Cybertronian history. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I had become depressed, spending my days either offline in an unmade berth, alongside the senator at mindless dinners and galas, forcing smiles and greetings, or perched in my chair at hearings. Mostly, I wanted to <em> rest </em> , to be left alone in my berth and spend every moment I could unplugged from the world. I could no longer bear to live in the moment. My existence was spent looking to the future, coming up with possibilities and scenarios that could help me gain a political presence. Like a sparkling, I daydreamed <em> constantly </em>, thinking of anything that could distract me from the metronome that had become my life.</p><p>Solus Prime, the first seeker, came to my rescue. She had felt my pain and silent cries into the night sky. She had heard my prayers and answered them in the form of a necklace.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't know if Solus Prime was a seeker, but I do like the idea of seekers having a god to look up to. Also, she was murdered by Megatronus, which I think is nice foreshadowing for the nature of Megatron and Starscream's relationship.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Last Gala</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream is given a gift, but the message it brings is not what it seems.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div class="resolved">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <span>Dazzling streaks of gold bleed through the windows, panes of flawless glass covering the length of the walls. I sit between them, slacked in my chair like a sparkling crashing from sweets. I’m somewhere in Vos, yet I can’t put my finger on the exact location. All I know is that I can see the peaks of the academy’s proud towers that housed me as a newborn. Otherwise, Vos is a blur, far, far, beneath me. But I know that I am home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s calm. Agonizingly calm, like death. Yet I hold no fear. It is silent because Cybertron is resting, blissfully asleep in a coma marked by peace. There are no cries, no arguments, no tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before me lay a group of seeker sparklings, listening intently to my stories. I’m telling them of Vos, before there was peace, when seekers felt the need to avoid seedy bars in their own city, when seekers were seen as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dessert</span>
  </em>
  <span> by those who refused to see our true value, our intelligence. Of course, the sparklings don’t understand. How could they? The idea of discrimination is little more than a myth in their world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their optics widen when I tell them of grounders, and the fact that they once walked among seekers. Now, within the realms of Vos, there are only airborne. All roads have been crushed, decimated, the rubble pushed to Kaon, just beyond our gelded walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sparklings giggle when one of them sneezes in the middle of my story. They lose interest, already lost in their world of happiness. I smile, I’m not offended. I want them to live in bliss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone chuckles warmly beside me, a voice to my right. I can’t recognize it, but the strength in its tone is comforting. I know that whoever this voice is coming from has completely and utterly devoted their life to my safety, as mine is to theirs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To my left, someone begins to hum. I close my optics, absorbing the tune as well as my audials will allow. I’ve never heard this song before, but I imagine that this is what a carrier would sing to their sparkling. I can feel something welling behind my optics. The joy of this moment is overwhelming, and I worry that I might shatter. This must be my trine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turn to see who is singing, but there is only a cloud of gray, struggling to take the form of a mech. I see the ambiguous lines fight to settle, in one second, the form of a seeker, in the next, of Jetfire. I cannot make out a face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Horror clouds me, but only for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” I whisper. “Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I beg your pardon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics open. I’m sitting across from Sentinel Prime, towering above me on a velvet sofa. I’m with my senator at the Gala of the Primes. The band across the hall performs some kind of waltz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” I utter. “I agree with you. I don’t think the functionalists meant to oppress. All mechs are specialized to serve one purpose or another, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime clears his vocalizer and readjusts his position on the seat next to me. Clearly, he hadn’t expected me to be paying attention, and he’s right. I’ll say whatever it takes to make peace with the senate. After all, they will be easier to mold when they are polishing my pedes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well spoken,” Sentinel Prime stammers, looking away to regroup his chain of thought. He continues his story, some bogus justification of his oppression of Cybertron’s constructed mechs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My fans release a gentle sigh. My optics fall to my drink, one of many that Sentinel Prime and admirers alike have given me this night. I swirl the emerald concoction and the shimmer catches the light of the chandeliers above us. I think of how strongly I wish I were anywhere else but here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, I don’t suppose you’d like to step onto the balcony and enjoy the stars for a moment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants my attention again. I force a coy smile and meet his gaze. “I’m perfectly happy sitting with you here, Sentinel. Why would we step outside?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime struggles for words. “Well, I was hoping to… speak to you in private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hadn’t expected that. I glance to my senator for guidance. He has been watching us, no doubt thinking of ways to improve his standing with the Prime by using his irresistible “security” seeker to vex him. He looked to me and ever so slightly nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I resisted the urge to groan. I smiled at Sentinel Prime, lifting gracefully from the sofa. “Shall we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel rises quickly and nods awkwardly to my senator before leading me to the crystal doors behind us. He opens them and mentions for me to walk through to the balcony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I place my drink on the emerald railing, wondering what kind of conversation Sentinel Prime would want to have in </span>
  <em>
    <span>private</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel gently shuts the doors to the Gala, leaving my senator craning for a better view. He clears his vocalizer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and joins me at the railing. “I have served the senate for more years than I could ever hope to count, and, quite honestly, I’d rather not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirk, unsure of where this conversation is heading to. “Cybertron is blessed to have your guidance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, yes, well…” In the time I knew him, Sentinel Prime had </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>despised displaying any emotion other than anger. He was similar to Megatron in that way, I would come to learn. “What I mean is that my life has become very… </span>
  <em>
    <span>predictable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I sign bills, I enforce, and I have many, </span>
  <em>
    <span>many</span>
  </em>
  <span> arguments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My smirk fell to a frown. Where was he </span>
  <em>
    <span>going </span>
  </em>
  <span>with this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, it’s quite fortunate when something comes along and brings some light to my routine. You could say it’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>treat</span>
  </em>
  <span>, perhaps, to experience something so refreshing in such a long life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My grip stiffened on the handle of my drink, so strongly that I felt it snap in two. Was he talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never thought I’d see the day that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeker </span>
  </em>
  <span>would bring me that kind of refreshment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt my fans gasping for air, struggling to soothe my rising internal temperature. I was more than accustomed to mechs begging for my company, but to hear a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prime</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing so was a shock, and not a very pleasant one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope that you can work for Senator Proteus for many years to come,” Sentinel continued. His discomfort had completely transferred to me. “I’d like to see more of you, Starscream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sentinel,” I whispered, “this isn’t very professional.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For all they know, I am merely praising your accomplishments serving Sentinel Proteus,” Sentinel Prime remarked, closing the space between us with a sideways step. I stepped away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream,” he murmured, “don’t be afraid of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I struggled to smile, to steady my voice. “I’m not afraid of you, Sentinel. I’m merely aware of the fact that Senator Proteus and many others are right inside those doors. What kind of impression does this make?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, Sentinel closed the space between us. “I’ve been serving Cybertron for four million years. I’m running out of time to care what bogus impression I give.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words surprised me. For the first time, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>connected</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Sentinel Prime. Did he really disregard public opinion? Was he so willing to throw away his reputation for the companionship of a seeker?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to thank you for the pleasure your company has brought me these last few cycles,” Sentinel confided, reaching for something under his cape. He withdrew his servo, revealing an indigo blue box. I gasped at the sight of the trademark </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iacon Jewelers </span>
  </em>
  <span>insignia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sentinel…,” I breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I began designing it from the moment I met you, and I sent it to Iacon to be crafted by the finest jewelers on Cybertron. I had it polished once more last night, but I doubt that it will shine as brilliantly as you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked away. I couldn’t bear the welling in my stomach. It trailed up to the tip of my wings, making it hard to focus on his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel lifted the cap of the box and my breath hitched. The stones were </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous</span>
  </em>
  <span>, zircon, alexandrite, and garnet alike, placed in such perfect unison that the sight of it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dazzling</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my head. “This is too much,” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense,” Sentinel chastised. “It’s rude to refuse a gift from a prime. Turn around. I want to see it around your neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I covered my trembling lips with a servo, yet I lost the fight to turn away. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> the stones, regardless of who it came from. To a seeker, jewels are a way of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt his servos trace the seams of my neck as he draped his gift upon me. I closed my optics, clasping my hands so tightly that they ached. I turned to face him and he grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t wear this inside,” I stammered. “Not in front of the guests. They’ll know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel huffed, clearly disappointed in my refusal to flaunt his mark upon my body. “I suppose I can understand that,” he groused. “If you’d like, you may keep the box for its protection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I accepted the box, now substantially lighter. I admired the insignia before studying the craftsmanship of the box. Iacon wasn’t much to look at, but they knew their stones. I flipped it over, taking a moment to read the writing on its base.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My spark sank.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>SERIAL 00000013</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I stay out here much longer, I may worry Senator Proteus,” Sentinel Prime jested, unaware of the fluid swelling on the corners of my optics. “I’m expected to give a toast to the crowd. Please, enjoy the stars and come in when you’re ready to join me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doors shut behind him, and I was left behind. My lips trembled, and I watched as my servo crushed the box against my palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I began designing it from the moment I met you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>SERIAL 00000013</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m running out of time to care what bogus impression I give.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>How many other seekers had heard those same words? Thirteen? Twenty? Fifty?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The box fell from my servo. I watched it tumble below me. I wondered how many other boxes Sentinel Prime had let fall to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the air became thick. I struggled to breathe. The weight of the necklace was too much. It felt like a cobra, writing its way under the plating of my body and striking venom into my spark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gasped for air. I was drowning. I yanked the doors open, much to the shock of Senator Proteus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, are you alright?” He implored, but I was already pushing my way through the crowd. They looked back in surprise, but I couldn’t meet their gaze. I wanted to melt through the floor and crawl into Jetfire’s arms, the way I did as a sparkling running from thunder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fluid clouded my vision, but I found my way to the stairs. I let my wings catch me as I raced to the ground floor, missing the mechs in the lobby by mere inches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doors to the hotel fought back as I struggled to escape. I let out a frustrated cry. A mech tried to help, but I pushed through before they could reach me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind fought against me, sending chills through the fluid racing down my cheeks. I stumbled down the marble steps, losing my composure with each passing second. I struggled for air, but pitiful noises emanating from my vocalizer won the fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I fell to my knees, ripping the necklace away from me. I cried out, my claws digging harsh lines into the frigid marble below.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confusion and rage once again fought for dominance in my processor. What was I to mechs? Was I a sentient being or a </span>
  <em>
    <span>toy</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I looked to my servos, watching fluid fall to my cobalt digits. What was it about me that made mechs want to treat me like a commodity? What was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> serial number?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My spark flared and I let out a cry of rage. Not only rage, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Senator Proteus found me, I had managed to stop the cries. Fluid continued to collect under my chin, and he sat beside me to wipe them away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, what did he say to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a breath, keeping my optics shut. “What’s my favorite color, Senator?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My favorite color. What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus chuckled in confusion. “What a silly question!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glared up to him, my crimson optics brimming with flame. “Is it?” I hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The senator didn’t know what to say. He tried to hold my gaze, but he faltered, letting his optics fall to the glass in his servos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t lie to you, Starscream,” he murmured, “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p><span>I grit my denta. “Do you know </span><em><span>anything </span></em><span>about me? About who I </span><em><span>am</span></em><span>?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>The senator took a few seconds to respond. “I know that you’re a brilliant scientist, and that you have a love for chemistry. I know that you take architecture and design more seriously than your physical appearance, but not by much. You had a loved one named Jetfire, an airborne shuttlebot who raised you like his own, and I know that you carry an immense deal of pain over his passing.”</span></p><p>
  <span>I let my optics open to gaze at the Crystal City skyline before us. I couldn’t bear to see it any longer. What was once a glimmering metropolis was now my prison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I quit,” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m leaving Crystal City. Tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I paused. “Free all midnight conjuxes from their contracts and slaughter all who continue to run the practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus hadn’t expected those words from me. He sighed. “That is something I do not possess the power to grant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rose to my pedes. “Yes, you do. You refuse to acknowledge it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I began to walk away, making enough room for me to be able to transform and depart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your seat at the senate remains,” Senator Proteus said behind me. “I hope that you continue to pursue a career in politics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I do,” I whispered. “You’ll be seeing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>more of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sharp intake and a running start, I threw myself from the edge of the hotel walkway, allowing myself to fall into the night sky of Crystal City. I watched the lights of passing buildings pass over my wings, feeling a grin form on my lips, the first genuine smile I’d had in years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I closed my optics and transformed, blasting towards home, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Vos</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wanted Starscream to learn that money and materialism don't always mean happiness. I'm really happy to see him returning to Vos &lt;3 He needs some of that seeker pride restored in his spark.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. For Old Times' Sake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Back in Vos, Starscream visits an old friend and receives advice to help regain his seeker pride.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's a fun drinking game: Take a shot every time the word "sparkling" is mentioned in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="resolved">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>I left my apartment in Crystal City as it was, packing only a small bag of my most precious possessions: My valedictorian pin, the set of test tubes I treasured as a student, a photo of myself as a sparkling, and a graduation snapshot of Jetfire that I cut from the school newsletter. At one point during my haphazard packing of my bag, I had swallowed the sadness that reminded me of how few meaningful possessions I owned, and of just how many frivolous <em> things </em>I had bought in Crystal City.</p><p>By the time I reached Vos, the sun was rising. I landed in <em> Hotel Volatus </em> and stumbled deliriously to my room. The Vosnian herbs under my pillow soothed my soul, much like the herbs that soothed the restless nights I spent in my crib. I nodded off to the sound of thrusters whizzing by the balcony.</p><p>I’m not sure how long I slept, but I didn’t rise until the sun had long since set. I had no desire to leave the warm blanket cocoon, yet I slithered out of my nest to drag the berth to the balcony doors, propping them open and laying back to enjoy… <em> everything </em>. I watched the moons pass the night sky, at times covered by the clouds that brought intermittent rain. I opened my audials to the music of the bars and clubs below me, to the sound of seekers and shuttles alike laughing in drunken fits of hysteria. My fans drew in the unmistakable odors of Vosnian delicacies, marinated in spices derived from all across the galaxy. I wanted to experience everything and nothing at once, so I lay in my berth, unmoving, and allowed every sensation I received to pass through me like waves. That was how I spent the first deca cycle in Vos.</p><p>Eventually, when the magic of Vosnian culture had finally reabsorbed me, and the shock had worn dry, I allowed myself to take flight from the balcony of the hotel.</p><p>The sun was rising. I knew where to go.</p><p> </p><p>Professor Cloudblade didn’t notice me when I walked in through the lecture hall doors, hours after his class had started. I looked to the seat I had sat next to Jetfire for so many years, but it had been taken by a mauve seeker who struggled to keep up with her notes. I smiled. I hoped she would enjoy chemistry as much as I had at her age.</p><p>I took a seat beside dozing students sitting in the back of the hall. Cloudblade was speaking on the topic of thermochemistry, a topic he had always been passionate about. I crossed my slender legs and waited for the perfect entry.</p><p>I watched Cloudblade write some kind of equation on the board, and my spark hopped when I caught the error in his work. I raised a servo and dramatically cleared my vocalizer.</p><p>His head whipped back, offended that someone had interrupted his concentration. When he saw someone willing to participate, his expression softened.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“The hea-”</p><p>“Stand up! I can’t see who’s talking with all these bright lights.” Cloudblade. How old he was by then.</p><p>I stood proudly, placing servos on my hips. “I believe the heat capacity symbol is missing on the third line down. How can I tell what the limitations of my data are without it?”</p><p>Cloudblade immediately recognized my voice. He grinned and placed his stylus down upon the desk as he approached the edge of the stage. “Is that the mischievous sparkling I once knew to hide under my student’s seats?”</p><p>I crossed my arms and laughed warmly. “The one and only.” </p><p>Every student in the hall suddenly wanted to know who I was. I felt three hundred pairs of optics turn towards me.</p><p>“We have a very special alumni in our class,” Cloudblade beamed to his students. “If he’d let us, I’d love to hear our Academy’s one and only Starscream give us a few words.”</p><p>I ravished the attention like a bottle of the finest Vosnian liquor. Finally, after so many cycles, I was being recognized for my fame, not my <em> body </em>. I strode elegantly down the steps, gliding into the welcoming arms of one of my many guardians.</p><p>“Professor Cloudblade, it’s so good to see you,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. The welling in my throat caught me by surprise. I hadn’t expected my teacher to hug me so tightly, with such desperation. I didn’t want to cry in front of such a large audience.</p><p>Cloudblade stepped back and pat my back. “You disappeared so quickly. I didn’t expect to see you again.”</p><p>I gulped. Hadn’t I given a good enough goodbye to the Academy?</p><p>My professor turned to his students. “Starscream was a brilliant student of mine only a few hundred years ago. He was raised here at the Academy by myself and all of our faculty.” His tone softened, tinged with a sadness he hadn’t acknowledged in many years. “As well as another brilliant scientist our Academy had the pleasure of teaching, a Vosnian named Jetire.”</p><p>We shared a tender gaze for a moment, our words unspoken yet mutually understood. Both of us would have given our ability to fly if it meant the chance to have <em> one </em>last conversation with Jetfire.</p><p>“I expect <em> all </em>of you to treat Starscream with the same respect you would give your professors.”</p><p>“Please, Professor, I’m merely a student.”</p><p>“Not anymore. Have you forgotten your title? You are one of the Academy’s most revered scientists.”</p><p>The genuine praise overwhelmed me. I chuckled sheepishly.</p><p>Cloudblade smiled. “Would you like to give a few words? I know the students here need the help.” He let out a hearty laugh. The students didn’t share the humor.</p><p>I looked up to the audience, clearing my vocalizer in awkward silence. “Well, does anyone have any questions?”</p><p>A burgundy shuttlebot raised their servo. I nodded to her.</p><p>“What was it like growing up in an Academy?” She asked. I blinked. Had I really looked so young at her age? She was at least a foot taller than me, yet her face carried no burdens.</p><p>My servos returned to my hips. “I was lucky to have been raised by the Academy. I presume that my carrier knew I would be taken in. Most sparklings grow up with blocks and balls, but I only remember pipettes and test tubes.” The students giggled at my joke. “I suppose that’s why I became a scientist.”</p><p>“Why chemistry?” Another student blurted out somewhere in the crowd.</p><p>“Raise your <em> servo </em>!” Cloudblade snapped beside me.</p><p>“Well, you could probably thank Cloudblade for my love of chemistry, and perhaps my friend Jetfire as well.”</p><p>There was a long pause. Someone raised a servo.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“What was Jetfire like?”</p><p>I felt my jaw tighten.</p><p>“That might be a bit too personal,” Cloudblade murmured gently.</p><p>I shook my helm. “No, I don’t mind. I want them to know about friendship. What it should be.” The memories of Crystal City hung in the shadows of my words. “Jetfire was a once in a lifetime mech. I truly feel as though my time with him was a blessing. It almost makes me believe in the validity of fate.”</p><p>My digits flexed over my hips. I wasn’t sure if I could express what I felt in words.</p><p>“Jetfire wasn’t just tall, he was <em> gigantic </em> . I only see a handful of mechs in this room that could even come close to his stature. But he was… gentle. I’m not sure if it’s even physically possible for him to hurt someone. Have you ever felt, even for a moment, that your life could end and you would be content with it, as long as you were sitting next to that <em> one </em> friend? That is what I felt with Jetfire. At every waking moment.”</p><p>A wave of sympathetic sighs crossed the room, some of them joyous and understanding.</p><p>“It’s just now hitting me that I am reaching four hundred years on his planet,” I continued, feeling my vocalizer grow weak with adoration for the adolescent optics illuminating the hall. “I suppose time can grow obsolete when you’re so busy being young. I hope all of you know how important it is to be a sparkling. There’s no hurry to grow up.” If I told them of my plan to save our race, would they even understand? I doubted they even knew about the reality of a seeker’s treatment outside these Academy walls. I withheld my words. They didn’t need it. If I wanted to deliver my people, I would have to <em> show </em> them, not preach my grand ideals.</p><p>Cloudblade wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “You’re one to talk, sparkling.”</p><p>“I suppose you should be the one talking about growing old,” I jested, nudging his side with my hip.</p><p>Cloudblade’s focus on teaching class had clearly ended with my arrival. He waved a servo to the students. “Your assignment is on the board. Get out of here before I change my mind.”</p><p>The students wasted no time scrambling from their seats, pushing down the stairs to get to the doors. I watched them filter out, wondering, just maybe, if I might see Jetfire among them. I had caught myself looking for Jetfire in crowds for quite some time now.</p><p>I walked to the chair that housed my tantrums for so many years, catching dust at the back of the stage. I gripped the back of it and carried it up to my professor’s desk. Lines of polish remained where the chair’s legs had been sitting. Cloudblade hadn’t moved it. All this time.</p><p>“Shall I put you in time out for old time’s sake?” Cloudblade beamed as he sat beside me.</p><p>I smirked. “We’d need Jetfire here to keep me from escaping.”</p><p>“He never stopped you, not really.”</p><p>We weren’t sure what to say. There could never have been enough words to say how much we missed him.</p><p>“Are you doing okay?” Cloudblade placed a servo on my shoulder. “You seem different.”</p><p>I looked up, his question catching me by surprise. “Different how?”</p><p>Cloudblade furrowed his brow, deep in thought. “Even as my student, you carried yourself with such <em> vigor </em>. Just now, the words you chose to speak to my students weren’t like you. At your graduation, you gave such a powerful speech that I was nearly brought to tears. Now, you’re telling them to treasure every moment and pass among loved ones. Where is that Starscream vigor? It’s almost as if you left it behind in Crystal City.” He had always been a brutally honest mech.</p><p>It took me a while to respond. “I probably did.” I looked to the empty rows of seats lining the hall. “Crystal City wasn’t good for me, Professor.”</p><p>“I’ve heard of how seekers are treated in Crystal City, though I’d hoped they were just rumors.” Cloudblade sighed heavily. “What could have been so important that you would leave Vos?”</p><p>“Actually, I served Senator Proteus. I was his <em> security </em>.” I rolled my optics, more than happy for those words to be the last time I spoke them.</p><p>“Senator Proteus? How did you even come across a job like that?”</p><p>I smirked. I had no reason to lie. “I saved him from a gladiator in the pits of Kaon, and he offered enough money to refurbish half the dormitories here at the Academy.”</p><p>Cloudblade grunted. “Those damn pits. I’ve heard about them on the news. I’ve been trying to ignore it.”</p><p>I closed my optics and looked away.</p><p>He must have read my face. “Is it getting that bad? The unrest?”</p><p>I paused. “It’s worse.”</p><p>The professor stroked his chin. “Are the students safe here?”</p><p>Even Megatron would be slain before I let anything happen to the academy. I nodded.</p><p>“Can you promise that?”</p><p>I met his gaze. “I promise. I wouldn’t let anything happen to this place.”</p><p>He leaned back in his chair, staring me down with a concerned look on his aging face. “You’re different. Crystal City really wasn’t good for you.”</p><p>I shook my helm.</p><p>We sat in peaceful silence for quite a while. I looked up and watched dust fall from the ceiling above us. The velvet curtains of the stage filled me with nostalgic comfort.</p><p>“Are you going to the festival tomorrow?” </p><p>I blinked. “Festival?” </p><p>Cloudblade huffed, as if annoyed that I wouldn’t know what he meant. “You really have been halfway across the planet. It’s a new event the Vosnian governor funded to teach sparklings about our history, about seeker history, more specifically. All the schools are bringing their students to the event tomorrow, including the academy. After sundown, it becomes much more adult oriented. I’ve been going since it began. They have local musicians come in and play music. There’s lots of dancing and drinking. There’s even a lantern send off at sunset. They let the sparklings draw on them to count their blessings for the lengths that seekers have achieved in the past, but some adults use it to give thanks for their families and so forth.”</p><p>I shrugged. “I was thinking of apartment hunting tomorrow. I don’t know if a sparkling festival is really my thing.”</p><p>The professor’s tone hardened. “Starscream, <em> go </em>. Crystal City has clearly damaged the sense of pride in your own people that you once had.”</p><p>His words pierced my spark. I winced.</p><p>He leaned forward. “<em> Go </em>.” </p><p>“Fine!” I threw up my servos, laughing nervously.</p><p>He crossed his arms and leaned back, satisfied with my submission to his orders. “I’ll be looking for you,” he murmured. “I’d better see you making a lantern.”</p><p>I scoffed and rose from my seat, carrying it back to its rightful place at the back of the stage. “Lanterns? How much of a sparkling do you think I am?”</p><p>“It has nothing to do with age.” Cloudblade stood, stacking his datapads and shoving them into a briefcase. “You are a seeker, Starscream, the most ferocious and stunning creatures on Cybertron. Act like it.”</p><p>I was left in stunned silence. Professor Cloudblade let the door slam behind him.</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Seeker's Dance</h2></a>
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            <p>Starscream attends a festival dedicated to seeker culture. An out of body experience leads him to meet two very special mechs.</p>
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</div><p>“Parkway A0025…,” I whispered, tracing my digits over the ruby placard that marked the last turn of Vos’s main street. By now, I was well onto the edge of town.</p><p>I could hear joyous music ruminating from somewhere before me, but my audials couldn’t pinpoint the location. I huffed and crossed my arms. The last thing I wanted was to ask for directions.</p><p>Mercifully, I never had to. Three young seekers and who must have been their creators came giggling out of an alleyway. I stepped back to let them pass me.</p><p>“I’m gonna go to Sidearm’s Shootout and win a kite!” One of the offspring declared, pushing her way through her brothers.</p><p>“Sire says those games are rigged,” a brother retorted smugly. “You won’t win anything.”</p><p>Their carrier sent an icy glare to the obvious sire. “<em> Nice </em>.”</p><p>I smirked, but I felt my spark eroding. For so long, I had yearned for this family’s pointless bickering, the day that <em> this </em> would be the type of flippant troubles in my life.</p><p>Suddenly, the family took off into the sky, the combined force of their thrusters knocking me off balance. I shielded my optics as the air smacked my face, and I watched in confusion as they climbed the atmosphere. They seemed to be flying towards some kind of platform in the sky, its outline poorly illuminated by a warm amber ambiance piercing through the clouds that concealed it.</p><p>I shrugged and transformed, blasting off to join them. I tagged closely behind the family, watching in awe as we cut through the clouds and arrived at some kind of <em> festival </em>.</p><p>For a while, I simply hovered before the vast platform, its gargantuan thrusters keeping the auspicious event afloat high above Vos. Now, I understood why: This was an airborne <em> only </em>event.</p><p>I listened to the music, jovial and refreshing, the sizzling of grills and beckoning of vendors, the playful jabs of carnies to the crowds walking by. Most of all, I listened to the laughter. Everyone was so <em> happy </em>.</p><p>I landed gracefully beside a sweets stand, taking a moment to buy some overpriced energon truffles, the same kind Jetfire brought me on birthdays. I ambled slowly through the crowd, though I wasn’t walking in any particular direction. I was merely absorbing the sights and sounds around me, drowning my soul in love for my people.</p><p>“Starscream!” A familiar voice cried. “Starscream, is that really you?!”</p><p>I only had an astro second to look up before a flash of jet black embraced me so aggressively that I dropped my box of half eaten truffles.</p><p>“Crossfire,” I gasped for air, “I can’t breathe!” </p><p>Crossfire laughed and let go, allowing me to stumble back, almost colliding with a kite stand’s fragile display. “It’s so good to see you!” He boomed through the laughter. “I heard you left us for good!”</p><p>I shook my helm as I regained my balance. “I would never leave Vos for long.”</p><p>“What were you even doing out there?”</p><p>My lips twisted in disdain. I had no desire to repeat the senator’s name. “Work.”</p><p>Crossfire wrapped an arm around my shoulders, dragging me along to Primus knows where. “You’ve got to meet my trine,” he beamed. “I’ve told them all about you and how we grew up together.”</p><p>Yet another friend who’d already met their trine. I grimaced, but I didn’t have the strength to break away. I was dragged to a cozy stand where silver and gray seekers helped sparklings pour glitter on poorly drawn mechs of glue.</p><p>“This is Ace and Dropcloud,” Crossfire introduced proudly, pointing to the gray and silver seeker respectively. “And this-” Crossfire reached down to a celestine bassinet under the table “-is my daughter.”</p><p>I had never seen a newborn sparkling before. I didn’t know what to say.</p><p>Crossfire thrust the newborn towards me. “Hold her!”</p><p>I gazed down in utter fear at the pudgy seeker in his arms. I was <em> convinced </em>that I would somehow hurt her.</p><p>“I-I can’t,” I whispered breathlessly. “It’s so small.”</p><p>Crossfire let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t be! These things are sturdy!” He stepped forward, shoving the sparkling into my arms. I gasped in horror and opened my servos, accepting the package. I immediately cradled it against the glass of my cockpit, a movement I hadn’t expected to know so naturally.</p><p>“You must have a carrier module,” Crossfire chuckled. “You take to sparklings easily.”</p><p>I was speechless. I reached down, gingerly unwrapping the thermo-blanket that covered the newborn’s chubby chin. Her coloring had not yet developed, but her crimson optics shined brilliantly. In her optics, I saw the future of Cybertron. I wanted to give her everything I could to make her planet thrive.</p><p>“Where’s your trine?” Crossfire asked, raising a servo to affectionately rub his sparkling’s forehead.</p><p>I shook my helm. “Don’t have one.”</p><p>“Really? Damn, it’s been, what, four hundred years?”</p><p>“Easy, Crossfire,” a feminine voice scolded behind him. I met Ace’s gaze. She smiled, giving me a sympathetic nod. “Everyone has their own path.”</p><p>Crossfire blabbered an apology, regretting his jab at my personal development. I was too dumbfounded by the beauty of the newborn in my arms to care.</p><p>“What’s her designation?” I asked, stroking the back of its helm. Foolishly, I hoped that all of my strengths would transfer to her through my touch. I wanted her to have a good life.</p><p>“Eclipse,” Ace beamed proudly. “She was born on the night of Unicron’s Eclipse last stellar cycle.” </p><p>I nodded absentmindedly. How fitting. All seekers should be named after the universe surrounding them. Every corner of its endless expanse is within our capabilities to reach.</p><p>Eclipse began to stir, fighting my servos as if to search for her carrier. I returned her to Crossfire, who placed her into the celestine bassinet behind Ace. </p><p>“Do you think you’ll have one of those?” Crossfire asked, crossing his arms.</p><p>I didn’t have an answer. I had never considered the possibility of becoming a guardian, but now that he said it, I realized how lovely it would be, the idea of <em> my </em>creation flying next to me among the stars.</p><p>I shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe.”</p><p>“Have you made a lantern yet?” Dropcloud asked me as he handed a vial of glitter to a student across the table.</p><p>I rubbed the back of my helm, feeling ashamed of my life thus far. “I’m not sure what I’d write on it.”</p><p>“Well, from what Crossfire tells us, you’ve had quite a fortunate life,” Ace pondered as she played with Eclipse’s chubby digit in the bassinet.</p><p><em> He must not have told you everything, then </em>, I thought, feeling a wave of melancholy pass over my spark.</p><p>“You should send a message to Jetfire,” Crossfire suggested. “Isn’t there anything you’d like to say to him up there?”</p><p>I grit my denta and played with my digits. I wouldn’t be able to fit my words onto a little lantern, and what I wanted to say to Jetfire could only be felt, not spoken. I also didn’t want a crowd of onlookers to see some pathetic seeker without a trine giving thanks to a dead mech.</p><p>“Crossfire,” Ace snapped, “That’s not your suggestion to give.” </p><p>I forced myself to smile and I stepped back. “You’re right, I should say hello to Jetfire. Where do I go to get a lantern?” </p><p>Ace pointed to our left, down a tightly packed alleyway lined with kite stalls. “Walk until you see the lanterns hanging from strings. You can’t miss it. You should be able to get a new one from one of the stalls on the way.”</p><p>I nodded, waving to Crossfire. “It was nice to see you again. Thank you for introducing me to your family.”</p><p>Crossfire nodded back. He offered a servo and I shook it. “Thanks for coming back to Vos, Screamer.”</p><p>I took one last look at the bassinet. Eclipse must have felt my optics. She looked up, meeting my gaze.</p><p><em> I’ll do what I can for you </em> , I spoke to her, hoping she would feel my words through our sparks. <em> I’ll make Cybertron your paradise. </em></p><p>It took me a great deal of strength to turn my back on the newborn. I waved once more to Crossfire’s trine and followed Ace’s directions into the crowd.</p><p>Sparklings pushed by me, giggling as they dragged their seeker shaped kites behind them, soaring gracefully through the wind high above us.</p><p>As I walked and watched the families and friends laughing around me, my processor struggled to decide what I would write thanks for on my lantern. The Academy? My seeker CNA? The ability to fly? I knew I would write <em> anything </em>but Jetfire’s name. I hadn’t allowed myself to even visualize the Cybertronian letters that spelled his designation, and I wasn’t about to face the thought now, here among so much happiness. Why would I drag down their night with a pathetic show of mourning? Jetfire knew the risks of interstellar travel. He knew about the dangers of ice storms.</p><p>He… He knew the risks.</p><p>
  <em> I could live twelve million years and I still wouldn’t have the time to tell you everything I hope you know. </em>
</p><p>I shivered. I wasn’t ready to welcome the memoires yet.</p><p>I wondered if I would ever be.</p><p>Maybe writing Jetfire’s name wouldn’t be such a bad idea.</p><p>I cut to my right, walking up to a stall lined with blank silk lanterns. The seeker behind the counter smiled at me.</p><p>“Any particular shape?” He asked warmly.</p><p>I looked up to his inventory. They were beautiful, five or six pointed stars, spheres, Cybertronian characters for “family” and “fortune”, even some ringed planets.</p><p>I nodded to the six pointed star. “That one, please.”</p><p>The elderly seeker chose the finest star, placing it before me and offering an array of styluses from a glass tray. I chose the calligraphy based stylus, the same type I preferred for writing in chemistry.</p><p>I inhaled slowly and began to write.</p><p>
  <em> Thank you, Jetfire of Vos, for giving me my wings. </em>
</p><p>“How much do I owe you?” I asked, opening the module in my forearm to pay the vendor for my lantern.</p><p>He shook his helm. “You can’t put a price on blessings.”</p><p>I tried to fight the smirk building on my face. How cliche. Still, I smiled and picked up my lantern.</p><p>“Hang it on them lines over there,” he explained, pointing to the seemingly endless rows of lanterns hanging next to us. “They’ll release them all at once at sundown.”</p><p>I nodded and cradled it against my cockpit, moving towards the strings holding up what must have been thousands of lanterns. I weaved through the rows, choosing a spot that looked neglected at the back of the clearing. I hung my lantern on the top line, having to engage my thrusters and hover to reach it. I landed with a <em>thud</em> and took a moment to read the other lanterns. Most of them had names on them as well. It seems as though we had wanted a quiet area to make our peace, as if keeping our sadness away from the laughing families and their joy.</p><p>“I had a feeling you’d write to Jetfire,” a deep voice said behind me.</p><p>I reached up, fixing my lantern the best I could as it swayed gently in the breeze.</p><p>“What did you write?” I asked, little more than a whisper.</p><p>Professor Cloudblade reached forward beside me, fixing some of the other lanterns. Everyone who has experienced loss would understand why.</p><p>“I wrote to my trine,” he murmured. “They died in a collision some two million years ago.”</p><p>I looked up to him, my optics wide in shock. I hadn’t even considered if Cloudblade had a trine. Why wouldn’t he? He was no less seeker than I.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.</p><p>He shook his helm. “We had eight million years together. Even now, I can still feel our bond. I’m ready to join them when it’s time, but I’ll stay here and teach as long as Solus Prime deems fit.”</p><p>My optics fell to my pedes. “I wish I could understand what that’s like.”</p><p>Professor Cloudblade smiled, placing servos on my shoulders. I looked up to meet his gaze. “You will,” he said, “in your own time.” </p><p>My servos clenched. Why was fate making me wait so <em> long </em> to meet my trine? Wasn’t I enough? Hadn’t I suffered enough to earn some <em> happiness </em>after all these years?</p><p>“Don’t be frustrated, Starscream,” he spoke, as if reading my mind. “Like you said, focus on being young.”</p><p>We walked to an empty clearing where families had set down cushions and blankets to watch the send off. I took a seat beside Cloudblade, where he had already set up his area.</p><p>“I’m sorry I don’t have a seat for you,” he murmured apologetically. He groaned as he lowered to his knees. “These joints aren’t what they used to be. Enjoy being able to sit on the ground while you still can.”</p><p>I laughed and jabbed him with my elbow. “Enjoy making youngsters sit on the ground while you still can.”</p><p>Suddenly, the festival <em> switched </em>from day to night. All vendors cut their lights. Children stopped giggling and carriers and sires “hushed” their offspring.</p><p>Somewhere over an intercom, someone began speaking in ancient Cybertronian tongue.</p><p>“What are they saying?” I whispered to Cloudblade.</p><p>“Prayers,” he replied. “She’s asking that Solus Prime receive our lanterns and bless who we’ve thanked.”</p><p>My chin fell to my knees. I had always believed in chemistry, but in that moment, I hoped that Solus Prime was real.</p><p>The prayers ended. No one dared speak. We watched the sun set, its golden hue blinding us for the last few seconds of daylight. I looked around, eerily comforted by the crimson and sapphire optics dotting the clearing around me. At this moment, we had no identity. We were just… <em> alive </em>.</p><p>The sun disappeared beyond the horizon, dousing the hovering platform in darkness. I shivered, hugging my legs for warmth. I had grown to hate being cold.</p><p>And then, every lantern began to glow. I watched as their amber flames grew all at once. I heard an echoing POP!, and they were released.</p><p>They climbed slowly, likely fighting the gravitational pull of the outer atmosphere of Cybertron. I was amazed, reaching out to touch their honey-like glow as it spread across the clearing. The lights of the lanterns were so strong that they had overpowered all traces of color on every mech around me. We were all one color, and I could only describe the shade as <em> warmth </em>.</p><p>And then, I saw a flash of violet. It assaulted my optics, taking up my entire view for only a split second.</p><p>I touched Cloudblade’s arm. “Did you see that?” I asked.</p><p>“See what?”</p><p>“That… That purple light.”</p><p>He shook his helm. “No, all I see is gold.”</p><p>I didn't like that answer. I hugged my knees and tried to focus on the lanterns.</p><p>I had just begun to relax when an even brighter flash of azure blinded me. Again, only for a second.</p><p>I stood up, beginning to hyperventilate. “Okay, you <em> must </em> have seen that,” I begged my professor.</p><p>Cloudblade could see how disoriented I was. My digits were clenched so tightly that I could hear their coils straining. He held my wrist gently. “Are you feeling okay? Try turning your fans on.”</p><p>My fans clicked on and I pulled my hand away. I didn’t want to be tied down.</p><p>“The lantern ceremony can be intense,” he whispered, doing his best to soothe me, “especially for someone who has felt such a great deal of grief.”</p><p>I shook my helm. “No, I know I saw it. I saw violet and azure lights. There’s no way you didn’t see it, too.” </p><p>“I didn’t.”</p><p>I opened my mouth to beg the professor to admit his prank, but I was interrupted by a dash of azure gliding through the crowd. It faded away, yet I had seen it moving towards where they had released the lanterns.</p><p>“That!” I hollered, pointing desperately to what I had seen, my digit trembling.</p><p>Professor Cloudblade stood, trying to steady my shaking body with his servos. “You’re okay, Starscream. Jetfire was azure, too. Maybe he’s visiting you.”</p><p>I grit my teeth, feeling tears welling behind my optics. “I know what I saw! It wasn’t just blue, it was purple, too!”</p><p>“Oh, Starscream, come here.” Cloudblade pulled me into a soft embrace. I began to sob, ashamed that I would lose my composure in front of such an auspicious leader in science.</p><p>“I’m scared,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” </p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with you, Starscream.” Cloudblade rubbed my back strut like I had rubbed Eclipse’s helm.</p><p>“I miss Jetfire so much,” I whimpered.</p><p>My professor held me. There was nothing he could say. I was a mess. I kept my optics locked on the path that I had seen the azure light disappear to. I was terrified of what was happening, yet I couldn’t bring myself to ignore it.</p><p>Another flash of violet, this time much closer, only inches away from us. I yelped and shut my optics, squeezing Cloudblade for dear life.</p><p>“Did you see it again?” He asked quietly.</p><p>I nodded. “Purple.”</p><p>“Hmm,” he considered. “I’m not sure what the purple light could be.”</p><p>I sobbed into his arms, my body racked with exhaustion and fear. I had never in my life experienced something so inexplicable. For the first time, I could not explain what I was seeing by science alone.</p><p>And then, as if feeling my pain, I felt a warm glow begin to envelop me. I was terrified to open my optics, to see Jetfire standing behind me. But something deep inside told me that I shouldn’t be afraid to look.</p><p>I pulled back from Professor Cloudblade’s shoulder, looking down to the source of the warmth. Wrapped around my <em> entire </em>body were dazzling shades of azure and violet, lining every joint and weld that held my root mode together. </p><p>I stepped away, optics locked on my servos. The lights danced on my palms, twisting around my digits to the very tip, where they whispered and faded away. I was left in darkness once more.</p><p>“What did you see?” Cloudblade implored before me.</p><p>I looked up. “It’s beautiful.”</p><p>He smiled. “There’s no need to be scared of loss.”</p><p>“I don’t think it’s loss,” I whispered. “I think it’s a new beginning.”</p><p>Cloudblade took my servo once more, and I knew it was for the last time. “Go,” he instructed. “Follow it.” </p><p>I stepped back, unsure of where or what to follow. I knew the lights were calling me <em> somewhere </em>.</p><p>“Go,” he whispered.</p><p>I began walking towards the strings that once held the lanterns. My walking quickly evolved to running. Waves of confidence flooded my spark. I knew where I was going, yet I didn’t.</p><p>“Starscream?” A voice whispered in my audial.</p><p>Tears began to stream from my optics. I <em> knew </em>that voice. I grinned, the most raw happiness I had ever felt pounding in my spark, and I didn't even know the name of the voice speaking to me.</p><p>“I’m here,” I whispered. “I’m coming.”</p><p>“Where are you?” This voice was different, deeper and stronger.</p><p>The gasps emanating from my vocalizer were followed by heavy sobs. I had never been so happy, so <em> primal </em>.</p><p>“I don’t know,” I whimpered desperately. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“Up here,” They whispered in unison. Their voices were music to my audials.</p><p>My thrusters engaged before I could even give a second thought. I blasted to the night sky. My tears felt like ice in the wind.</p><p>I continued to climb. I didn’t need to transform. I knew where to go. I flew high above Cybertron, joining the lanterns as we ascended to space. They burned around me, and I began to see ropes of amber, violet, and azure dancing along my limbs. They glided up my legs, reflected across my cockpit, and jettisoned out towards the stars.</p><p>I could see two black forms covering the stars before me. I engaged my thrusters to full throttle, transforming to my alt mode. I could hear them do the same. I twirled until I was upside down, pulling back down towards Cybertron. The light of the lanterns glistened along my wings.</p><p>The black forms came closer, and suddenly, they were <em> here </em> , inches from me as we danced through the night sky, diving and soaring and pulling up at the <em> last </em> moment, missing a collision by <em> centimeters </em> . I had no idea what I was doing, but the dancing that commanded my wings to twist and turn were an orchestra written by Solus Prime herself. <em> This </em>was a seeker’s pride.</p><p>At the same time, we disengaged our thrusters, allowing ourselves to fall back towards the festival, cutting through the lanterns with grace, coming close but never colliding.</p><p>We pulled slightly to our right, setting off a cylindrical spiral that had us wrapping around each other like ribbons.</p><p>The festival quickly approached. We <em> yanked </em> our thrusters up at the last moment, forcing our wings to catch the wind and save us from crashing into the platform. At no moment during our dance had I felt that I would crash.</p><p>We transformed just before landing. The light of the lanterns had faded and the vendors had turned on their lights. I could finally see.</p><p>Before me stood two seekers, one azure and one violet. I reached up and wiped the tears from my cheeks. We had all been crying.</p><p>“Starscream,” Thundercracker whispered, his voice hoarse and full of love, “It's really you.”</p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I fkn cried writing this rip</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Effigia Coelum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker enjoy their first day together. At dinner, Starscream realizes that the pits of Kaon are closer than previously thought.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The light of the sunrise filtered through the curtains. I lay upon a velvet pillow, watching the day begin. That sunrise was, and always has been, the most beautiful sunrise of my life. I watched students whizz by the window on their way to the Academy. For three hundred years, Thundercracker had been living <em> down the road </em> from my Academy and I hadn’t even known.</p><p>Memories of the previous night came rushing in, of the three of us sitting on the edge of the platform spending the rest of the festival just <em> talking </em> . We had been so desperate to get to know each other. We had told our stories and asked so many questions that our voicalizers had grown hoarse. Several times throughout the night, I had touched their servos, checking to make sure that they were actually <em> real </em>. I hadn’t experienced such happiness since Jetfire.</p><p>Skywarp let out a snore to my right. I grinned and slipped down the berth until I was flat on my back. I gently pressed my forehead to his own. He stirred and reached out, wrapping an arm around my waist and dragging me up to his cockpit. I stiffened. I was terrified that this moment would end, and I would wake up in a party sitting next to the Senator, drinking engex and wishing I was dead. I was so afraid of the validity of reality that I had slept horribly, only for a groon or so.</p><p>I had never been so close to a mech before, not like <em> this </em> . Jetfire had spooned me since the day we met, but Jetfire was my guardian, not my <em> trine </em>.</p><p>“Trine,” I mouthed the word. It felt foreign on my tongue.</p><p>I had been staring at them all night. By now, I knew every detail of the faces of Thundercracker and Skywarp. Skywarp had a firm, square chin, and piercing crimson eyes that striked dominance into anyone who could handle his glare. He even slept with a scowl. And he snored. <em> Loudly </em>. During my time on Earth, I felt a strong resemblance between Skywarp and the male lions of Sahara, devastatingly fierce, yet uncoordinated with their strength. </p><p>I turned to my left and felt a secondary wave of disbelief as I gazed into the face of Thundercracker. Unlike Skywarp, Thundercracker’s face was soothing to the optic. His nose was slender and sharp like mine, but his jaw was rounded out, unlike my razor sharp jawline. I raised a digit that had been resting next to my helm to touch him, but I didn’t want to rouse him. For once in my life, I wanted to <em> observe </em>, not to participate.</p><p>But Thundercracker was an insanely light sleeper. His optics, the same almond shape of that all seeker’s shared, slowly opened. I met his gaze and I stopped breathing. To me, his optics had been drawn with a gliding streak of an ink brush. </p><p>“Good morning,” Thundercracker whispered. He smiled and took my servo in his. His voice was equally as soothing as his appearance. Even his personality was calming. His azure and white paint reminded me of ripples in a pond.</p><p>I was speechless. I blinked, unable to meet his gaze.</p><p>Thundercracker let out a breath of laughter and he reached forward. I realized he was trying to kiss me. I reflectively pulled back. I didn’t know how to kiss. If only I knew how <em> killer </em>I’d grow to be at intimacy.</p><p>“Don’t be scared,” he breathed. I felt my cheeks flush purple. I let out a pathetic noise and held still as he gingerly pressed our lips together. Being so close to him, to Skywarp, was the easiest thing I’d ever done.</p><p>“Sorry,” I whispered, just as flushed if not more. I didn’t want to disappoint them.</p><p>“Don’t be,” Thundercracker grinned, settling back down into the pillow. “We have a <em> long </em> time to get better at that.”</p><p>“I woke you up.”</p><p>He grunted apathetically. “No, I always wake up this early. I pray five times a day.” </p><p>“Right,” I breathed. Thundercracker was a spectralist, a universal religion that had regained popularity throughout the universe after a brutal attack on its practice some thousand light years away in a far off land. I didn’t understand why he would believe in faith when science had so much more tangible evidence, but I was admittedly charmed by the trust that Thundercracker held in his gods.</p><p>He rubbed his cheeks for a moment and slipped out from under the blankets, careful not to let any cold air touch his trine. I watched in wonder as he walked to the dresser, pulling out a silk bag of what must have been holy objects.</p><p>Thundercracker turned back to me as he tucked a mat in the crook of his arm. “Are you hungry?” He asked, his voice louder than I had expected. “I can make something for you.”</p><p>I turned to Skywarp, <em> praying </em>that he wouldn’t take yet another trine member from the berth.</p><p>Thundercracker chuckled, shaking his helm. “Don’t worry about him. He could sleep through a hurricane without ever cracking an optic, maybe even a bombing.”</p><p>I hadn’t had someone offer to <em> make </em>me a meal in two hundred years, but I dreaded the idea of disturbing his prayer, even if I disagreed with it.</p><p>“No, thank you,” I whispered.</p><p>Thundercracker nodded, walking hazily to a small closet sized room beside ours.</p><p>“By the way,” he grinned, “He loves to cuddle.”</p><p>For some reason, his offer to cook for me had somehow cemented the validity of this reality. I felt myself yawning, and as Skywarp pulled me closer once again, this time <em> crushed </em>against his cockpit, my optics began to flutter, and within minutes, I was back in recharge.</p><p>I awoke groons later, when the sun was hanging low in the sky. Skywarp slept just as long as I did, if not more. His arm was draped over my cockpit and he was snoring yet again.</p><p>Thundercracker was sitting in a recliner by the window, flipping slowly through a literature magazine. I would soon develop the habit of buying <em> every </em>literature magazine I saw, just for the chance to see him smile when he found them on his chair.</p><p>“You two sure are night jets,” he murmured. I wondered how he had known I was awake if he had been sitting facing <em> away </em> from the berth.</p><p>I gently lifted Skywarp’s arm, but soon found it to be quite a struggle. Skywarp was a seeker, but he was <em> heavy </em>. I grunted, pushing it to his side. He whined in his slumber and desperately reached out for me, but I was already wriggling away. I strode to Thundercracker’s side and he smiled, opening his arms for me to climb in.</p><p>“There’s no room,” I murmured.</p><p>“If it can handle Skywarp, it can handle you,” Thundercracker purred.</p><p>I had never done this before. I crept forward, slowly laying down on top of Thundercracker and <em> slowly </em>letting my weight down.</p><p>“You’re light,” Thundercracker whispered, putting down the magazine and wrapping his arms around me. He kissed my forehead. It felt heavenly. “And so small.” He reached over to the side of the chair, yanking a handle and allowing the recliner to lay out. I watched seekers and shuttles fly to their evening gatherings outside.</p><p>“This is all so new to me,” I breathed, tracing lines along his digits. I couldn’t have designed a more perfect mech myself.</p><p>“Skywarp and I only met a few cycles ago. It’s new to us, too. And last night was unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”</p><p>I paused. “It scared me at first.”</p><p>“Really?” Thundercracker seemed genuinely surprised. “It was beautiful to me.”</p><p>“I’ve never felt anything like that before.”</p><p>He shrugged, the best he could when pinned under a seeker. “I’ve been practicing this faith for my entire life. I’ve seen much stranger things in my mediation. That’s how I knew your name.”</p><p>I looked up, bewildered. I hadn’t thought about that. How <em> had </em> he known my name before even meeting me? </p><p>“When did that happen?”</p><p>Thundercracker reached up, rubbing my cheek with his palm. I closed my optics and leaned into the touch.</p><p>“I was only three,” he whispered. “It came to me during my very <em> first </em>meditation. It actually frightened me for a long time, and I refused to meditate for several decacycles. Finally, I began to wonder why I shouldn’t be thankful that my gods had given me your name. I now had something to look forward to, even if I didn’t know who the name belonged to.”</p><p>“How did you know it was mine?” I whispered.</p><p>“When I saw the wisp of crimson last night, I knew.” He kissed my forehead, but this time, I bent back my helm to let him meet my lips. “I just knew.”</p><p>Skywarp began to stir behind us. He groaned and stretched under the blankets so aggressively that I heard fluid in his tubing pop.</p><p>“Hungry,” he growled.</p><p>“Why don’t we go out for dinner?” Thundercracker suggested, unable to take his optics from my own. “I think tonight warrants a splurge, don’t you?” </p><p>A splurge? I cocked my helm, and I realized why their apartment was a studio.</p><p>“I’m a chemist for the Academy,” I mentioned. “From now on, dining out will be an option, not a splurge.”</p><p>Thundercracker smiled, though he was unimpressed by my promise of wealth. “Money has never been of any importance to me. It dulls the senses.”</p><p>I ignored him, waving my servo aimlessly to gesture at his apartment. “I’ve been meaning to go apartment hunting. Let’s pick out something <em> big </em>.”</p><p>“Sounds good to me!” Skywarp said, stumbling over to take my servo. He rubbed my palm with more force than necessary. “As long as it has an oil bath with jets, I don’t care where it is.”</p><p>Thundercracker glared to Skywarp. “Let’s keep our expectations realistic, shall we?” </p><p>I sent a ping to Thundercracker, a number that may or may not have been the amount in my bank account.</p><p>Thundercracker’s breath hitched. He bit his lip. “It would be nice to have a shower with working plumbing.”</p><p>I smiled. I loved the feeling of being able to provide for my trine. I wanted to give them the <em> world </em>.</p><p>I pulled myself up and out of Thundercracker’s lap. “Why don’t we go to <em> Effigia Coelum </em>?” I suggested proudly.</p><p>Skywarp whistled. “That’s the fanciest restaurant in town. Even that’s a bit too pricey for us to cover.”</p><p>I sent Skywarp the same ping I sent Thundercracker.</p><p>Skywarp blinked. “Where did you say this place was?”</p><p> </p><p>Thundercracker huddled uncomfortably behind his menu alongside Skywarp, looking equally as nervous. They had clearly never seen such an exquisite restaurant.</p><p>I beamed with pride, leaning back in my chair without a care in the world.</p><p>“I can’t even read these food names,” Thundercracker whispered, narrowing his optics like an earthling hawk. “Lima- Igne-”</p><p>“Lixma Ignis,” I accentuated my words with more exuberance than necessary. “Snails from half a universe away. And it’s delicious.”</p><p>Thundercracker struggled to hide a scowl of disgust.</p><p>Skywarp let out a laugh, much louder than appropriate for a restaurant like this. “Gross!” He hooted. “Let’s try it!”</p><p>I blushed and looked around. Some of the seekers dining beside us gave Skywarp a harsh look. When they met my optic, I gave them a look that sent them rushing back to their own business.</p><p>“This is too much, Starscream,” Thundercracker whimpered. “There’s a drink here that costs more than my <em> rent </em>.”</p><p>“Let’s get that too,” I grinned as I grabbed my glass. “Get used to this kind of dining. You’re never going to pay your rent again.”</p><p>Skywarp slapped my back so hard that I choked on the engex I was sipping on. I gasped for air and he broke out laughing.</p><p>“I wish we’d met you sooner!” He exclaimed. “You’re gorgeous <em> and </em> loaded? Our fridge has been empty for <em> cycles </em>.”</p><p>“Not <em> empty </em>,” Thundercracker stammered, “Just… clutter free.”</p><p>The waitress came for our order, and I ordered anything that even remotely grabbed my attention on the menu. Thundercracker blushed so heavily that I thought he might melt into the floor.</p><p>By the time the trio of servers came back to deliver our food, I had taught Skywarp and Thundercracker -more so Skywarp- everything they needed to know about dining etiquette. As much as I despised him, the senator had taught me well in the mannerisms of fine living.</p><p>Only after trying a bit of the various delicacies on our table, Thundercracker’s shoulders relaxed and he began to savour every bite. I smiled, watching him adjust to his new life. I wasn’t hungry. I just wanted my trine to feel the same comfort that they gave me.</p><p>I was sipping on a third glass of engex when the thundering boom of footsteps passed our table. It had been over a hundred years, but the weight of their pedes rang fresh in my audials. Constructicons.</p><p>“I’m drinking you under the slagging table,” one of them boomed as he pushed his comrades towards the back of the restaurant. I kept my optics locked on the drink in my hand. Thundercracker and Skywarp looked up, utterly bewildered. Even I was confused. What were <em> constructicons </em> doing in a place like <em> this </em> , in <em> Vos </em>?</p><p>“You’re <em> on </em> , Long Haul.” I realized in horror that I <em> knew </em>that voice. The customers around us fidgeted nervously as the grounders’ towering shadows covered us.</p><p>“Think we’ll get Megatron in on the bet?”</p><p>My throat locked. I felt a stream of engex slip down my chin and fall onto my cockpit.</p><p>“Hey, wait a moment,” the voice spoke, suddenly coming to a stop. I looked up and realized that the familiar voice was looking at <em> me </em>.</p><p><em> Oh, no. </em> Primus <em> no. Not here. Not now. </em></p><p>“I know you!” The constructicon laughed, pointing <em> directly </em> at my face. “I ain’t seen you since you came to the pits! I guess we <em> scared </em>you off, little seeker?”</p><p>My face burned. I sent him my best glare.</p><p>Skywarp was a possessive mech. He didn’t appreciate their attention for me, nor did he like my agitated expression. He turned to me and took my servo. “Do you know them?”</p><p>I shook my helm. “No, I don’t.”</p><p>The mech huffed, irritated by my denial of our past. “Oh, like slag’s sake you don’t. You were shaking in the cell like an astrofly when we got locked up. Couldn’t resist the appeal of the pits, though.”</p><p>“You’ve been to the gladiatorial pits?” Thundercracker whispered in disbelief. I knew he was disappointed in me.</p><p>My cheeks burned with shame. “You must have me confused with someone else.”</p><p>“Oh, no, I remember you,” he growled affectionately. “How could we forget a body like that? Even Megatron remembers you.”</p><p>My spark flared in horror. The entire restaurant was now staring at our table. The constructicon before me had just revealed that I had committed a <em> felony </em> in front of <em> everyone </em> here. And that <em> Megatron </em> knew me.</p><p>Skywarp had had enough. He stood so quickly that his chair was sent falling to the floor. To his credit, as foolish as he was, Skywarp was afraid of very little. He stepped up to the constructicon and <em> growled </em>.</p><p>“He says he doesn’t know you, <em> grounder </em>,” he hissed. “If there’s a problem, I’d love to take this outside.”</p><p>“Outside? You?!” The constructicon laughed.</p><p>Skywarp held his ground with elegance. “Who else?”</p><p>The constructicon’s laughing stopped.</p><p>Long Haul placed a hand on his comrade’s shoulder. “He ain’t worth it, Hook. Let’s go eat. Megatron’s waiting for us, and he <em> hates </em> when we get kicked out.”</p><p>Megatron was here? In this room? How could someone like Megatron even afford a place like this?</p><p>Hook and Skywarp shared a <em> long </em> look, ended only by Thundercracker’s whimper and gentle tug on his wrist. Long Haul finally had to grab Hook’s arm and <em> drag </em> him away. I smiled when I saw Hook break the gaze first. This black and violet seeker had just stood his ground against a mech more than twice his size, for <em> me </em>. I felt myself blush, but this time, it wasn’t embarrassment.</p><p>Skywarp finally sat back down, immediately tended to by Thundercracker. I took his servo and squeezed tightly. We shared a smile before Thundercracker began to scold him in a livid whisper. I couldn’t help but watch the constructicons to see where they’d go. They crouched down and disappeared in a private booth. As the blinds covering their room settled, my fans <em> whirled </em>when I caught a glimpse of Megatron sitting at the back of the booth.</p><p>Looking directly at me.</p><p>Slowly but surely, the restaurant resumed their conversations. The band began to play their romantic jazz and Thundercracker and Skywarp finished their plates.</p><p>Any shred of appetite I once held had been crushed by the look that Megatron had given me, even though it had lasted for half a second. We hadn’t seen each other in more than a hundred years, and he had been <em> beckoning </em> me with his optics. And I had a sinking feeling that he was still waiting for me in that booth. Waiting for me to slide in next to him and... </p><p>I wasn’t sure.</p><p>When the waitress returned for our check, I asked her for the strongest drink they could make.</p><p> </p><p>“What a night,” Thundercracker sighed as we landed at the balcony of his apartment’s lobby. “I didn’t even know Vos had a side like that.”</p><p>“I can’t believe we were in the same room as <em> Megatron </em>,” Skywarp blabbered excitedly.</p><p>“That’s not a good thing,” Thundercracker chastised. “I keep telling you to stop watching that Kaon channel. Those pits are bad news.”</p><p>“They are,” I whispered. “Stay away from them, Skywarp.”</p><p>Skywarp walked backwards in front of us, reaching out to point at me. “How can you say that? You <em> went </em>to the pits! It must have been amazing!”</p><p>I shook my helm, though I was lying. It <em> was </em> amazing. And equally horrifying.</p><p>“There’s nothing amazing about watching mechs die,” I murmured.</p><p>“So, you really did see the fights,” Thundercracker whispered, taking my servo and rubbing my palm. This was a habit of theirs, I presumed. “Was it scary?” </p><p>I didn’t answer. “Did you at least enjoy the food?”</p><p>Thundercracker smiled. “Besides the thundering beasts who tried to flirt with you, it was lovely. I’ve never had a meal so… <em> exquisite </em>.”</p><p>Skywarp unlocked the apartment door for us. “This night was <em> amazing </em> . Going pede to pede with a <em> constructicon </em> , eating delicious food, and sitting next to the two most stunning mechs on Cybertron? I could die tonight and be <em> happy </em>with it.”</p><p>Thundercracker shut the door behind us and Skywarp flopped down upon the berth.</p><p>“The night’s not over yet, you know,” he whispered.</p><p>Skywarp and I turned to Thundercracker in confusion.</p><p>He smiled sheepishly. “We still haven’t bonded.”</p><p>
  <em> When you came to me as a sparkling, I used to dream about the day that you come home and tell me you’ve found the love of your life. I’d even think about getting you all dressed up for your trining ceremony. </em>
</p><p>What I would have given to tell Jetfire about this day.</p><p>“What’s it like?” I whispered.</p><p>Skywarp pulled me into his lap. “We don’t know. We’ve been waiting for you. Can’t bond without three members.”</p><p>I hugged his arms against my cockpit. “How does it work? What do we even do?”</p><p>Thundercracker came to sit beside us on the berth. “We open our sparks, and apparently, Primus does the rest.”</p><p>I didn’t know how to respond. What could I have said? I didn’t want to admit that I was terrified.</p><p>Thundercracker reached into the dresser, pulling out a thick prayer rug that looked big enough for the three of us. He carried it to the berth and motioned for Skywarp and I to get off.</p><p>We watched as Thundercracker spread out the circular mat, a gorgeous circle with a hypnotizing mandala made of silk.</p><p>Thundercracker and Skywarp climbed onto the mat and into a kneeling position. They faced the center of the prayer rug, looking to me to join them.</p><p>“Will it hurt?” I whispered. I was trembling.</p><p>Skywarp smiled. “Nah, it feels incredible.”</p><p>I inched forward, finally crawling onto the berth and taking my place beside them. We sat in our triangle position, looking to see who would open up first.</p><p>Thundercracker took our servos. Skywarp took mine.</p><p>“I’m so glad we met you,” Thundercracker breathed, looking deep into my optics.</p><p>“I am, too,” I said mournfully. “I’ve been hurting. For awhile now.”</p><p>Skywarp shook his helm. “You’re never going to hurt again. Not with us.”</p><p>We sat in silence for a few moments. Then, I heard Thundercracker’s t-cog activate, and before I knew what was happening, his cockpit folded away and brilliant bursts of light lept from Thundercracker’s chassi.</p><p>His spark.</p><p>My jaw hung open. I was mesmerized. Every color known to Cybertronians leapt out of Thundercracker’s vulnerable chest. I realized with a nervous sigh that I could kill him, and yet here he was, trusting us with every fiber in his body.</p><p>Skywarp quickly followed suit. Again, the same colors leapt forward. I looked up and saw reflections on the ceiling of the apartment. I can only describe them as the reflection of sunlight off waves of water.</p><p>“Your turn,” Skywarp whispered, though his lips weren’t moving.</p><p>I was frozen with fear. “I’m scared.”</p><p>“You have nothing to be afraid of.” Thundercracker’s voice. “We’ll keep you safe.”</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>I took a breath, and as tears began to streak down my cheeks, I allowed my cockpit to fold away for the first time in my life.</p><p>For a moment, nothing happened. I watched the light of our sparks dance in the middle of our triangle, bouncing and jumping and bumping off our bodies.</p><p>And then, they touched.</p><p>I gasped and threw my helm back. I cannot explain what I saw. The world had vanished. I was enveloped in colors of every hue, colors I never thought possible, colors I couldn’t describe. I could no longer feel my arms and legs, though I knew my trine was here with me. We had become one.</p><p>Every moment of my life came rushing in, starting with Jetfire holding me as a newborn. The Academy, the feel of my berth as a sparkling. I was <em> flying </em>, soaring above the clouds for the first time. I was in a bar, feeling the first pang of genuine fear when a miner tried to possess me. I was graduating, giving my speech to millions of onlookers. I was in my lab next to Jetfire, mixing this and that and hoping for results. I relived the moment I lost Jetfire. I was sent spiraling away into a mountain, crushing my wing and almost ripping from my body. I was lying on the icy lake, crying for Jetfire as the medics found me. I felt my body healing in the vat of fluid just before Prowl told me that Jetfire was gone for good. Sentinel Prime was placing the stones on my neck.</p><p>I cried out in shame. I didn’t want my trine to know how much of a failure I was.</p><p>Suddenly, I saw new memories. I was crying to my carrier as they handed me over to some kind of doctor, begging them to take me back, though I hadn’t yet learned to speak. I was using my pudgy fists to bang on a drum for the first time. I was enveloped in lightning, full of horror as I realized I was <em> different </em> . I was starving, locked in some kind of cage as I proved my worth as a full grown seeker. I was screaming, flashes of lightning burning the scientists trying to prod me with syringes. I was <em> erupting </em> from my chassi, waves of force that brought buildings to the ground.  I was sleeping in a warm crib, feeling the rumble of engines lull me to sleep as they rubbed the back of my helm with all the love in the world. I was jumping from a balcony at full speed, letting myself fall from the prison that had held me for too long. I was <em> happy </em> , I was <em> sad </em>, I was everything a seeker could ever feel.</p><p>These were not my memories.</p><p>That was when the trining ceremony began.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. First Contact</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream adjusts to his new life with Thundercracker and Skywarp, but the appeal of the gladiatorial pits prove too tempting to resist.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>holy shit it's finally happening</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="resolved">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>“Reports say that over one <em> million </em> citizens, including some ten thousand visitors from off planet, have been recorded or admitted to attending the gladiatorial pits in Kaon. An anonymous tip given to enforcers allegedly reports that the crowd grows to such high volumes that it is almost <em> impossible </em> to hear yourself speak. In the last fifty years, the capacity of the previously abandoned colosseum has grown from two thousand to over three hundred <em> thousand </em> , and the price of tickets are not just pricey, they’re -in the caller’s own words- ‘ <em> exorbitant </em> ’. Our own <em> Iacon News 7 </em> reporters were able to stop Sentinel Prime this morning before the senate’s daily hearings and finally ask the Prime not only why enforcers have failed to take action against the gladiatorial pits, but also why he has been <em> refusing </em>to acknowledge their existence.”</p><p>“Star, we’re going to wake him up,” Skywarp whispered next to me as we hunched over the railing of our balcony, a pathetic attempt to hide our nightly indulgence of watching the Kaon coverage after Thundercracker had gone into recharge.</p><p>“It’s raining and his door is closed,” I hissed. “He can’t even hear us. Turn it up.” A flash of lightning touched the skyscraper a few blocks away. Skywarp and I disabled our audials before the thunder shook us down with raw energy. I reached over his arm and dragged the volume level on the tablet to 70% when the vibrating finally stopped.</p><p>On the screen before us, Sentinel Prime struggled to resist the questions of reporters as he climbed the steps to the capitol. Finally, he caved in.</p><p>“The laws of Kaon are more outdated than ours here in Crystal City,” he spoke, his tone riddled with annoyance and embarrassment. “Before the golden age that we enjoy now, Kaon was the epicenter for the old ways, when justice was murder and war. Unfortunately, the Kaon government refuses to modernize their moral values, and because of that, it makes it extremely difficult for us to work with them to stop the fighting in the pits. We can’t just <em> march </em> in there and arrest everyone.”</p><p>“<em> Aftport </em>,” I hissed under my breath.</p><p>“I can’t believe he had the gall to call your necklace <em> custom </em> made,” Skywarp huffed.</p><p>I smirked. During our trining ceremony, Skywarp and Thundercracker had stepped <em> into </em> my body, flooded with every memory that made me who I am, and I had received theirs. Skywarp, an orphan like myself, had been born in a laboratory in Kaon, specifically <em> bred </em> to become a ruthless killer for the sake of personal hire. Instead of a killer, they were given a sparkling who could erupt in a ball of violet lightning and somehow <em> teleport </em> anywhere within five hundred feet, a skill that hadn’t been seen since the days of the original thirteen primes. Of course, he became their main priority, and to save funding, they had all patients, including his guardians, brutally slaughtered. Skywarp had been raised to believe that he was a menace to society, and the only ones who could understand him were the same scientists who had slaughtered his carrier. Skywarp had so strongly blocked out the first hundred years of his life that all I experienced during the trining ceremony was a gray blur. One day, the laboratory had hired a nurse who immediately saw Skywarp for what he truly was: a lonely, frail seeker who just wanted to go <em> home </em> . It was her sacrifice that finally gave Skywarp a chance at life, but she had given hers in the process of doing so. Ever since then, Skywarp had dedicated his life to learning how to defend himself, so that <em> no </em> one else would have to die protecting him.</p><p>Thundercracker, on the other hand, had been given much more fortunate beginnings. Born on a neighboring planet to a cult of traditionalist seekers, he was raised through spiritualism to become more in touch with his body. However, it hadn’t just been through meditation and prayer. The cult believed that <em> suffering </em> would strengthen the bond between seeker and Solus. I hadn’t been able to understand all of what I saw, but I had remembered the horror of being thrown in a metal cage, starved of energon and pricked with psychoactive drugs against his will, forced to endure nightmarish hallucinations for <em> seven </em> days before finally being welcomed to adulthood. After that experience, Thundercracker failed to shake the feeling that no god could be so omnipotent, yet demand the torture of innocents to earn his love. In an attempt to reconnect with his faith, Thundercracker retreated to a cave on the highest peak of his home planet, a holy site to his people. Instead of the twisted traditionalist faith, Thundercracker was given a beautiful experience of opalescent beams and halos that told him to find a place where “love wasn’t earned through agony”. That night, he left everything behind, including his guardians, and flew straight for Vos, knowing that this city was the utopia for all seekers, a place where he could find his new faith without fear of being beaten to a pulp by his own family.</p><p>“That was all Sentinel Prime chose to say,” the newscaster continued. I leaned in, struggling to hear her without risking getting in trouble by a sleepy Thundercracker who had already warned us to <em> never </em> listen to the news. “Enforcer Prowl, lieutenant of the Iacon task force, what do you think about the Prime’s answer? How would <em> you </em>solve the crisis in Kaon?”</p><p>“You want to know what I think?” A handsome white grounder stood before a camera somewhere in Iacon, absolutely <em> fuming </em> . I recognized him as the enforcer who had arrested me after Jetfire’s crash. “I think this Megatron is a <em> coward </em> , hiding behind some legal loophole and making his empty headed constructicons build bigger and bigger arenas, just so he can stroke his pride and kill mechs half his size while preaching <em> lies </em> about his grand plan for Cybertron. You know what his grand plan is? It’s <em> fascism </em> , and I don’t buy it. If he had any scrap of an engine, he’d get down here to Iacon and surrender before we finally get the permit that lets us rush in <em> guns blazing </em>.”</p><p>The newscaster and Skywarp buzzed with giddy adrenaline.</p><p>“Did you <em> hear </em> him?! Skywarp shrieked through a whisper. “Who’s crazy enough to <em> threaten </em>Megatron like that?”</p><p> I didn’t share the excitement. I winced and looked away. Prowl was safe behind the walls of the enforcers ready to start a firefight. Without them, I knew that Megatron would crush Prowl’s helm in the same way he killed the first mech I saw fight in the pits. I knew he could do that to <em>me</em>, too.</p><p>So why had I been daydreaming about going back to Kaon to find him?</p><p>“I wanna go to the pits so <em> bad </em>,” Skywarp groaned. “I wanna fight.”</p><p>I scowled. “If you fight, if they don’t kill you, <em> I </em>will.”</p><p>He grinned devilishly. “If they get too close, I’ll just teleport. No rules against that.”</p><p>I shook my helm. “Skywarp, I’m finally happy. I can’t stand to lose another loved one.”</p><p>Skywarp chuckled, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>“You’d better not.”</p><p>“Except for the pits.”</p><p>We stood in silence for a while, listening to Prowl spout obscene nonsense towards just about everyone he could think of. When the news stopped talking about Kaon, we turned off the tablet and enjoyed the rain.</p><p>“You really want to go, don’t you?” I whispered.</p><p>“Since the day it started,” Skywarp replied.</p><p>“I have a feeling the concept of the pits started way before we were even born,” I murmured. “There’s <em> meaning </em> in the kills. I mean, this isn’t just some criminal’s sport. I saw it in his <em> optics </em> , Skywarp. He wants us to know that he’s here to stay, and it’s only just beginning. I just don’t know what <em> it </em> is.” </p><p>“Yeah, I saw that memory, too,” Skywarp huffed. “He looked like he wanted to <em> eat </em>you.”</p><p>My spark fluttered in my chest. “I don’t know about <em> that </em>.”</p><p>“And last cycle, in the restaurant,” Skywarp pressed on. “That constructicon said he hadn’t <em> forgotten </em> you, like you’re someone who he’s known for a long, long time.”</p><p>“I’m cold,” I whispered. “I want to go inside.”</p><p>Skywarp read through my lie. “I don’t know, Star. I think you should at least figure out what he wants from you. Who knows? Maybe he’s been stalking you since the day you first shared that longing gaze, waiting for the right moment to <em> confess </em>his love for you. Maybe he built a bigger stadium just to impress you and win you over.” </p><p>I slapped his arm. “Stop it! You’re freaking me out.”</p><p>Skywarp laughed as we stepped back into our apartment, a glass walled three bedroom high rise, one for a boxing enthusiast’s gym and the other for a spectralist’s meditation.</p><p>“Join me for a soak?” Skywarp asked, already slipping into the amethyst tub installed in the floor of our livingroom. He toyed with a screen on the floor beside it and the clear opalescent oil began to boil.</p><p>“Oh, Primus,” he groaned. “Star, get in here.”</p><p>I crossed my arms, though the image of boiling oil lubricating every joint in my body was agonizingly appealing. I had begun clubbing again, this time with Skywarp, and my legs had been struggling to readjust. Thundercracker had <em> no </em> desire to follow along, much to our disappointment.</p><p>“I have work in the morning,” I protested, more so to myself. The Academy had been more than happy to welcome me back, though this time, I spent most of my days teaching new graduates about lab safety rather than working on actual science. Still, being able to spend more than a few seconds in that laboratory without Jetfire and not breaking down was nice.</p><p>Skywarp groaned dramatically and reached out for me.</p><p>I smiled. My trine had already learned weaknesses I hadn’t even known I’d had.</p><p>“Only for a breem,” I sighed, slipping in beside him.</p><p> </p><p>I sat on the edge of my desk, looking up at the monitor on the wall, trying, and failing, to distract myself from last night’s conversation.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t know, Star. I think you should at least figure out what he wants from you. </em>
</p><p>It wasn’t just about marching up to the one and only <em> Megatron </em> , the most dangerous mech on Cybertron. It was about what he could <em> want </em> from me.</p><p>What would Megatron want with a random seeker? If seekers were simply an indulgence for him, why had we shared such an intense moment that first night in Kaon? He clearly had no issue with smashing in the helms of any mech who dared stand against him, so why hadn’t he killed me the night I saved Senator Proteus from his attack? He could have easily driven his axe into my spark and ended my life right then and there. Why hadn’t he? I couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew something about me I didn’t.</p><p>It couldn’t hurt to at least <em> introduce </em>myself.</p><p>To a wanted felon with hundreds of thousands of admirers.</p><p>And an alleged plan to reformat Cybertron.</p><p><em> In the last fifty years, the capacity of the previously abandoned colosseum has grown from two thousand to over three hundred </em> thousand <em> . </em></p><p>The nights I went to Kaon, there had been less than two thousand spectators.</p><p>I opened the communicator module on my arm and pinged Skywarp.</p><p>= Do you still want to see the pits? =</p><p>Less than a kilk later, a reply.</p><p>= STUPID QUESTION =</p><p>I smirked.</p><p>= Let’s go to The Circle tonight. =</p><p>= U HATE THAT PLACE =</p><p>Smooth, Skywarp. And why did he have to type with such poor grammar?</p><p> </p><p>Skywarp was waiting on the steps of the Academy, the very same I had been left on when Jetfire first found me. I took a seat beside him, placing a servo on his knee.</p><p>“A grounder party, eh?” Skywarp grinned before pecking my cheek with a kiss.</p><p>I shrugged. “It’s not like Thundercracker knows the difference.”</p><p>We watched the sunset in silence, listening to the students passing by on their way to the same trashy clubs I had started in.</p><p>“I’ve never lied to Thundercracker before,” Skywarp grumbled.</p><p>I suppressed the guilt in my tanks. “I don’t want him to worry. And nothing’s going to happen.”</p><p>Another pause. “What are you going to say to him?”</p><p>“That we were in Iacon at <em> The Circle </em>.”</p><p>“No, I meant Megatron.”</p><p>I hugged my knees. “Oh.” I hadn’t the <em> slightest </em> idea of what I would say. I wasn’t even sure if I would be able to smooth talk my way “backstage”.</p><p>“Now that I know it’s actually happening,” Skywarp said quietly, “I’m actually kinda nervous.”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” I teased, only half joking, “It’s just as terrifying as it sounds.”</p><p>Skywarp hugged his torso.</p><p>“Come on.” I stood up, fighting the truth that I was just as nervous as he was. “Let’s go get a drink.”</p><p>We spent the first hours of the night at a random bar I’d seen on my daily commute to work. I told Skywarp that it was to help him loosen up, but I needed it more so for myself. It had been almost one hundred years, but I found myself throwing back drinks like candy. All this time, I had fantasized about the day I finally <em> spoke </em>to Megatron, but now that it was actually here, I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to go through with it.</p><p>Finally, when the clock told me that Thundercracker was likely deep in recharge, I pulled Skywarp out of our booth and blasted off to Kaon. I felt better going to such a dangerous place if I knew that Thundercracker wouldn’t be awake to wonder where we were.</p><p>Still, I hated the fact that I was lying to him. He had trusted us to stay <em> out </em> of Kaon. But, after seeing Megatron less than a stellar cycle ago, my morbid attraction to him had been rekindled. In Crystal City, I had been on the opposite side of the planet, and I was too busy being depressed to think about vacationing to a wanted felon. Now, knowing that he was close enough to possibly dine in the same restaurants as me, I wanted <em> more </em> . I just wasn’t sure what <em> more </em> was.</p><p>“Not too late to turn back,” Skywarp mumbled nervously at some point halfway to Kaon.</p><p>My scanners watched the airbornes and grounders following us, tires kicking up dust in the desolate Kaon desert. There were twice as many travelers as the last time I flew to Kaon.</p><p>“Skywarp, I promise I won’t call you sparkling if you run home to Thunder.” </p><p>Skywarp’s blasters engaged and he whipped past me. “Beat you there,” he provoked.</p><p>“Oh, <em> please </em>,” I giggled.</p><p>He could barely keep up with me as I concealed my anxiety with a childish race.</p><p> </p><p>“Hold my servo,” I ordered, holding onto my trine member’s wrist like a cobra. If I let go of him now, I wouldn’t find him until morning.</p><p>The crowd around us was <em> incomprehensibly </em> big. Now, I understood why enforcers couldn’t just race in and start slapping cuffs on every mech in sight: There were just too <em> many </em>. It was like some kind of phenomenon. I hadn’t seen this many Cybertronians in one place since I flew over the packed streets of Crystal City’s main street.</p><p>And it wasn’t just Cybertronians. I saw life forms I hadn’t known to exist. I grimaced at their size and grotesque appearance, some <em> dripping </em>as they walked. I leaned into Skywarp and he held me tightly, equally as intimidated.</p><p>The ticket booths were poorly constructed, but they did the job, just barely. I sent the doormech my transaction and she accepted. A shuttlebot cried out as an energon miner slapped him onto the ground.</p><p>“<em> No one </em> gets in without paying!” he boomed as the shuttlebot struggled to stand.</p><p>The new arena <em> was </em>bigger. I looked up at the proud archways as Skywarp guided me through the titanium turnstiles. As my optics traveled down the opening before us, I saw the brilliant glow of flood lights lighting a brutal clearing, five stories of bleachers lined with dried energon.</p><p>“Hey! Little seeker!”</p><p>Hook.</p><p>I scowled, meeting Hook’s scarlet visor as he smiled down at me. He and two other constructicons were standing on either side of the stairway leading to the upper floors.</p><p>“Megatron’s been waiting for you,” he snickered smugly. “He knew you’d show up eventually.”</p><p>I rolled my optics, but I was embarrassed of how flattered I was.</p><p>I walked up to him and shrugged, as if annoyed that I would be personally asked for. “He’s been waiting for me? Why?”</p><p>Hook shrugged, mocking my own actions. “Don’t ask me. Ask him. He’s waiting upstairs.”</p><p>I gulped. I hadn’t expected that.</p><p>Hook jutted his chin to Skywarp. “Why don’t you go and enjoy the show?”</p><p>“I’m not leaving him,” Skywarp growled, tightening his hold on my waist.</p><p>“It wasn’t a suggestion."</p><p>I reached up to touch Skywarp’s cheek. “This is what we wanted,” I consoled, though I was afraid to be separated. “Don’t worry about me.” I forced a carefree smile.</p><p>Skywarp pulled me into a hug. “I’ll be right here on the stairs,” he whispered into my audial.</p><p>As soon as I let go, the opposing constructicon used his colossal shoulders to block the stairway, much to the annoyance of the crowd.</p><p>“Head on up.”</p><p>I gave one last look to Skywarp, rethinking the choices of my life thus far, and led the way up the iron steps to the one who would become the most ruthless mech in the universe.</p><p>When Skywarp had disappeared from view, Hook stepped up beside me as we ascended the crudely built floors.</p><p>“I’ve been waiting on those damn stairs for two hundred years,” he grumbled. “Every damn night. Waiting for his <em> clients </em> to arrive.”</p><p>I tried my best to sound apathetic. “I’m a client, then?” </p><p>He shook his helm. “From what I hear, sounds like you’re more than just a client.”</p><p>I froze. The fear in my spark was beginning to overwhelm me.</p><p>Hook turned back, a coy grin on his face. “Don’t worry,” he jested. “Megatron only kills mechs his size. I’d be surprised if you even came up to his chest.”</p><p>I crossed my arms. “I’m not that small.”</p><p>“Yes, you are.”</p><p>After what felt like hours, we finally reached the top floor of the arena. The stairs evened out to a hallway that curved around the circumference of the building. On either side, mechs were healing from their fights, groaning in pain as unofficial medics struggled to rip metal chunks out of bleeding armor.</p><p>At the end of the hall sat a black titanium door, and I <em> knew </em> it was Megatron’s. My spark throbbed, <em> begging </em> me to turn back. The mechs on either side of us looked up as we approached the door, looking at me like they <em> knew </em>who I was.</p><p>I froze. My pedes locked and I covered my mouth with the tips of my claws.</p><p>“I… I have to go,” I whispered.</p><p>Hook let out an amused laugh. The mechs around us joined in on the jeers.</p><p>“Nonsense!” He boomed. “You can’t turn back now!” </p><p>I regret everything. What was I even <em> doing </em> here?! Thundercracker was right. He had always been right.</p><p>“I don’t belong here.”</p><p>Hook shrugged, growing irritated by my sudden change of spark. “Megatron thinks you do.”</p><p>I shook my helm. “No, I… I can’t-”</p><p>“Too late now!”</p><p>I could hear drilling, sparks flying, and some kind of rock music echo from behind the door. Hook reached forward and pulled it open.</p><p>Megatron was sitting on some kind of medical chair, facing a window that overlooked the arena. Sparks flew from his shoulder as a medic drilled into him.</p><p>I couldn’t do this. I didn’t belong here.</p><p>I turned to leave, but a heavy servo thrust into my back, sending me flying through the doorway. I yelped and landed on my knees with an embarrassing <em> slam. </em></p><p>I heard the door shut and <em> lock </em> behind me.</p><p>The drilling stopped. The medic stepped away. Megatron sat up to look at me, fresh energon sliding down his arm and into the floor.</p><p>“Starscream, I presume?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Megatron</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream meets the mastermind behind the pits of Kaon city.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
<p></p></div><p>
  <span>That is how my life with Megatron began: dazed and humiliated, trembling on my knees. Over the next six million years, I would wonder how my life had been if Hook had not taken my choice to meet Megatron away from me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petrified, I forced myself to speak. “How do you know my name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron paused. “Your rescue of Senator Proteus was quite the story around here.” He stood, to my horror, and began to walk towards me. Every step sent vibrations through my body, his hips hissing with hydraulic pressure to move his monstrously large legs forward. The shadow of his rectangular frame covered my body like a blanket as he offered a servo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize for Hook’s reckless nature,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speechless, I took his servo and allowed him to help me to my pedes. I kept my optics on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are energon miners, only recently freed of our shackles,” Megatron continued. “We are still adjusting to… </span>
  <em>
    <span>civilized </span>
  </em>
  <span>life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My claws dug into my hips. I struggled to maintain some form of dignity, but I could not bring myself to look at him. He was the most intimidating mech I had ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron stepped back, perhaps reading my body language. He turned his helm and waved a servo to a mech sitting across the room, the one I now know as Rumble. I could hear the pistons of his shoulder grinding to lift his arm. Neither he nor the constructicons had any color other than dismal gray and the yellow tape lining their helmets.  They had been built for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sole </span>
  </em>
  <span>purpose of mining energon, I realized. And they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>strong</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As his helm turned back to face me, I could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>the physical wonders that his body was capable of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like a drink?” He asked, though it wasn’t much of a question. Rumble handed me a glass of energon before I could answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” I murmured. I had never seen a fully developed mech shorter than myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron opened his mouth to speak, but the medic that had been tending to his shoulder gave his drill a whirl to regain his patient’s attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron,” he cautioned, “You could bleed out if I don’t patch up that shoulder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron smirked, irritated by the medic’s warning, but as he turned back to his chair, I saw a slight sway in his step.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would take more than a simple </span>
  <em>
    <span>laceration </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make me bleed out, doctor,” Megatron said as he lay back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a sip from my glass, grimacing as I tasted an alcoholic blend unlike anything a mech could find in Vos. As frightening as he was, I felt my spark pounding with intrigue. Everything was </span>
  <em>
    <span>new</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me: the gray paint plastered on his hulking body, the smell of casually spilled energon, even the taste of the foreign drink coating my tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The river of energon on the floor tells me that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> a simple laceration,” I jested. Against every thought in my processor that begged me to turn and run away, I felt myself walking up to the chair where Megatron lay. I couldn’t understand why he </span>
  <em>
    <span>commanded </span>
  </em>
  <span>my attention so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The standard for a serious injury has been set quite high for mechs like me,” Megatron replied, crossing his pedes. They bashed against each other and I watched the ripples in my drink settle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your standard of serious injury?” I asked, pulling up a rolling stool to sit beside him. Even then, sitting beside him felt so natural to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The medic began drilling, and I waited for Megatron to express his agony. To my surprise, he simply looked up to me and grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just say that there aren’t any medics on Luna Two,” he chuckled. His laughter sent tremors through the chair and into my pedes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was because of his vulnerability during a medical procedure, but I suddenly gained the courage to look at him. I raised my optics to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It may as well have been the first night I saw him, the gaze we shared sending chills down my spine. Once again, my breath came to a halt and I found myself hypnotized, terrified and intoxicated by the primal fear that Megatron forced down my throat and into my spark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, we sat in silence, speaking through our optics. The echo of the drilling had faded away. I felt as though I were staring into the eyes of Unicron himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through his gaze, Megatron carved his name into my identity. In that moment, he took command of my existence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have stunning optics,” he murmured. The transformation was complete. I had become a loyal decepticon without my notice or my consent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was his to control. I never even had a choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smiled, my fangs catching the light of the arena’s floodlights. “So do you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Skywarp let out a cry of relief when he saw me coming down the stairs. Hook stood aside as he pushed his way up to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cradled my jaw and studied my expression, perhaps searching for tears or wounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smiled, taking his servo away from my jaw and clutching it tightly. “Let’s go home,” I said. I had never been so calm, so collected, and it terrified Skywarp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He escorted me through the crowd and into the night. The harsh Kaon wind whipped at our faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stepped forward to transform, but Skywarp pulled me back to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well? What did he say to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I paused. “He asked me to come back anytime.”</span>
</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was quite short, but I didn't want it to be about *what* Megatron says to Starscream. I wanted it to be about how quickly Megatron takes control of Starscream's fate.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Trust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream suffers the consequences of lying to Thundercracker.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div class="resolved">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <span>Thundercracker was awake when we returned from Kaon. Having just met Megatron, I was brimming with adrenaline. Skywarp, on the other hand, was full of worry. He wasn’t satisfied with my debriefing of the conversation I’d had with Megatron, but I wasn’t planning on elaborating. Skywarp couldn’t possibly understand me even if I tried to describe the way Megatron had looked into my optics. After all, Skywarp hadn’t dedicated his life to the future of Cybertron like I had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The adrenaline helped me focus on giving the appearance of intoxication, as well as the energon in my tanks. I climbed into Thundercracker’s arms, making his recliner groan under our weight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp wasn’t in the mood to socialize. He tried to walk past us, but Thundercracker nabbed his waist as he passed through the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have fun?” Thundercracker asked anxiously. Usually, Skywarp came home from clubs stumbling and laughing so hysterically that I had to shove him onto the couch to make him sleep off the mania.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp pulled away, picking at an imaginary piece of lint in the vents of his helm. Skywarp </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted to be touched. “We always do,” he chuckled nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker wasn’t pleased. He knew something had happened. Something we weren’t telling him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp couldn’t handle Thundercracker’s concerned frown. “I need to lay down,” Skywarp asserted. “That new blend of Engex they had tonight really messed with my processor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked. Skywarp was always a terrible liar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker swiveled the recliner to watch Skywarp climb the steps of the living room and push his way into our room. I turned to my side and hugged my knees. Even with my trine, I was never much of a physically affectionate mech. Unless I was drunk. And I needed to carry the act returning from a night spent drinking for both of us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did anything happen?” Thundercracker pulled me up to his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrugged. “Someone tried to grab my aft when we were dancing. I guess that made him grumpy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker reached over me and covered us with a thermoblanket. “This is the first time I’ve seen him like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I began to massage Thundercracker’s palm. By now, it had become our love language. “Why aren’t you in recharge?” I asked dismissively, attempting to take his attention off Skywarp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t sleep.” Thundercracker wiped something off my wing. “I never sleep well when you two are out Primus knows where drinking Primus knows what.” He twisted his servo, trying to shake something off. I looked back and realized with horror that dried energon from my wing had stuck to his thumb. Hook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span> is this stuff?” Thundercracker hissed, irritated by its stickiness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker had never been to the pits, but he knew what happened there. Why would I bring someone’s coagulated energon home from a club? I hated loose ends. I had to cover my tracks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fell into a puddle when we were leaving the party,” I explained, lying through my teeth. “I guess Skywarp missed a spot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After such an exhilarating night, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, even after Thundercracker carried me to our oval berth and pulled me into a tight spoon. Usually, the soothing rumble of my trine’s engines as they fell into recharge put me right to sleep, but tonight, I was wide awake well after Skywarp began his nightly snoring. I tucked my servos under my helm and watched the stars twinkle outside the arched window of our habsuite.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He asked me to come back anytime.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That hadn’t entirely been a lie. After Megatron was patched up by his medic, he was instantly challenged by a foolish mech in the crowd to a fight to the death. Never one to back down from a challenge, even back in the days of Kaon, Megatron kissed the back of my servo and left me to enjoy the view. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, he hadn’t asked me to “come back anytime”. He had asked me to dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And I said yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After several hours of thinking of everything yet nothing at all, I slipped into recharge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You went to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kaon</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics flashed open to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuming </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thundercracker standing in the door of our habsuite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pinched the bridge of my nose as the remains of last night’s energon assaulted my processor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> me,” Thundercracker hissed. “You went to Kaon! Behind my </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t been to Kaon in at least a century, Thundercracker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker’s wings hitched to the sky as I denied his accusation. He marched to the opposing side of the room and pulled on a cord by the window, drawing the curtains and letting piercing sunlight shine directly into my face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I groaned indignantly and pulled the covers over my helm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time to wake up, Starscream,” he growled. “We’re going to talk about this </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>now.” Like Jetfire had when I slept through our morning lectures, Thundercracker yanked the blankets completely off the berth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I whined dramatically, changing my approach from irritation to pity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker reached forward, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to sit up. I lay my helm on his shoulder as he pushed my legs over the edge of the berth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thirsty,” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker huffed, debating whether he should continue his interrogation or help me through my hangover. He wasn’t a cruel mech. He threw up his arms in defeat and marched out of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I crawled to the ball of blankets on the floor, covering myself and stumbling to the living room couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glasses clanged in the kitchen behind me. “I wouldn’t be happy, but I would have felt a lot better if you had just </span>
  <em>
    <span>told </span>
  </em>
  <span>me you were going to Kaon.” Thundercracker was already calming down. During the war, I would take advantage of his forgiving nature far too often to sleep well at night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want you to worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would rather worry and know where you are, Starscream.” Thundercracker brought a glass of medical grade energon as he joined me on the couch. I looked down and watched his gray servos tightening the blanket around my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From what Skywarp told me, it sounds like something </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>happen,” Thundercracker brought the glass to my lips. “And it’s not about danger. It’s about </span>
  <em>
    <span>lying </span>
  </em>
  <span>to your trine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, Skywarp had ratted me out. I grimaced and chugged the energon. Immediately, I felt my internal systems thanking me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watching those fights is horrible for your psyche,” Thundercracker scolded. “It’s not healthy to take pleasure in the suffering of others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I licked a drop of liquid from my lips. Skywarp and I hadn’t watched the fights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp had covered my aft, but only partly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t take pleasure in it. It’s just entertaining to watch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker shook his helm. “Either way, it’s not good for you. Please, Starscream, stop going to those pits in Kaon. Even if it’s entertaining, it’s a crime to attend, and I don’t think the Academy wants a criminal in their faculty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked. “You’re probably right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker held my jaw and I smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and I was. I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoy </span>
  </em>
  <span>lying to Thundercracker, but if I were to lead Cybertron, I couldn’t be constrained to the monotony of domestic life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker sighed and kissed my cheek. “Were you this much trouble for Jetfire, too?” He asked. He was teasing me. I was already forgiven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he was right. I had been more trouble than Jetfire could handle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pushed Thundercracker down onto the couch, crawling into his arms to cuddle and regain his trust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you wear a tracker for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed. “What kind of tracker?” I wasn’t about to have a chip installed and lose my chance at gaining Megatron as an asset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Magnetized.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I considered his barter for a moment. I needed Thundercracker’s trust, but Skywarp had lost mine. I couldn’t take him along to Kaon anymore, not if he revealed a simple lie so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker kissed my forehead and </span>
  <span>I focused on ignoring the guilt welling in my tanks. Unfortunately, I grew to be quite talented at swallowing my guilt during those first few years with Megatron.</span>
</p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Starscream you dishonest whore</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Vandetta</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream attends a private dinner with Megatron and agrees to assist in his fight for Cybertron's future.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry this chapter took so long to post! But I wanted to make sure this chapter was written properly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I transformed just before landing at the balcony of <em> Sudi Celeritas </em>, a welcoming warmly lit restaurant in the heart of Kaon. I was dumbfounded before I even heard the echoes of laughter and jazz ruminating from the penthouse establishment into the night sky. Wasn’t Kaon supposed to be a waste land? I looked back over the edge of the tower. Through the breaks of clouds below me, I could see sleek roads and strips of neon lining the floor of the city. Until now, I had expected a depressingly neglected dump of a city, yet here I was, flabbergasted at how quaintly beautiful Kaon actually was. However, the fresh roads and bustling skyscrapers were confined to the heart of the city. On the outskirts of town, buildings were rotting and rubble of what must have been once high speed highways lay in morbid piles, lining the city limits.</p><p>I turned back to the restaurant, watching grounders and flyers chat happily inside the glass walls. Servers weaved through tables with elegance, balancing generous plates of foreign foods on their arms and servos. In the rear corner of the restaurant, a band performed soothing melodies that wrapped the restaurant together in one happy collection of locals and outsiders. It was all so <em> civilized </em>that I couldn’t help but check if I were adequately polished.</p><p>“How many?” A smiling hostess asked me as I walked up to the entrance.</p><p>I was caught off guard by her friendliness. The entire restaurant looked so… <em> content </em>. “I’m meeting someone here,” I answered as I nervously rubbed my neck.</p><p>She looked down at the data pad on the podium before her, then nodded understandingly. “Ah, I see. Follow me?”</p><p>Didn’t she want to at least <em> check </em> her conclusion with me? I said nothing, crossing my arms and followed her into the bustling restaurant. Couples, families, and even a few sparklings babbled excitedly around me, sitting contently among themselves, the crystals of their polished scheelite tables catching the light of the golden chandeliers hanging above us.</p><p>“You’ll be dining in a private suite tonight,” the hostess boasted ahead of me. I struggled to keep up with her. I looked down and realized she was gliding on wheels. So <em> that’s </em>why the restaurant functioned so effortlessly. I searched for other servers and saw the same wheels on their pedes. I enjoyed the bustling energy. It reminded me of Vos. Neither Vos nor the heart of Kaon wished to slow down. We had places to be, people to meet, cities to build.</p><p>Finally, we reached the far end of the restaurant, only a few feet from the band. A grounder on stage smiled down at me from his base guitar, a mech I would come to know as Jazz, serving in the war as my opposing second in command. I looked into his sky blue vizor and nodded. But, for now, he was simply a musician enjoying the fading golden age of Cybertron. We all were.</p><p>“If you’re unhappy with the location of your table, we’d be more than happy to find a more suitable environment.” The hostess stopped before a ruby velvet curtain, pulling back the dense fabric to reveal a dimly lit hallway.</p><p>I shook my helm. “Actually, this is perfect.”</p><p>She grinned. “Your room is the second on the right. A server will be with you shortly. Let us know if you’d like to make any requests for the band.”</p><p>I nodded and stepped into the hallway. The curtain dropped behind me and I heard her roll away. Voices of a much more intimate nature bounced through the imported oak doors hiding six private rooms and off the halls beside me. Suddenly left alone, I felt trepidation taking hold of my spark. I had always wanted to speak privately with Megatron, to ask everything I’d been wondering about him for the past three hundred years, but now that it was actually <em> happening </em>, I felt myself falter. Just like the other night, I began to wonder if I had the courage to face him.</p><p>“Too late now,” I whispered under my breath, struggling to smother my nerves. I inched up to the second door on shaking pedes. The room was silent. Was I even in the right place? I flicked my wrist, causing the cover of my communicator module to open.</p><p><b>= </b>SUDI CELERITAS, 19:30 =</p><p>I frowned. My last attempt to escape had failed.</p><p>A powerful voice rumbled from inside. “Come in.”</p><p>I clutched my chest. <em> Primus </em> , I was <em> petrified </em>.</p><p>With a mind of its own, my servo reached forward and slid the door open.</p><p>Megatron stood at the end of the room, facing away to peer out the window, his arms crossed loosely in front of his chassi. I could hear his engine running from the doorway.</p><p>“I’m sorry I’m late,” I whispered. I would spend the entire war apologizing to him.</p><p>“Not at all,” he murmured. “I hope you found the place alright.” He turned back and caught my gaze. “Care to join me?”</p><p>Every time I saw him, the words were ripped from my vocalizer. I slid the door shut and sauntered to stand beside him.</p><p>“What are we looking at?” I asked, my voice not much stronger than a breath.</p><p>Megatron’s servos fell to sit on his hips. “What do you see?” I didn’t sense mockery, only genuine curiosity.</p><p>I cleared my vocalizer. “A grounder city?”</p><p>He chuckled. The power of his voice shrunk me to a sparkling. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. But what did you see on your flight from Vos?” </p><p>I looked down. “Not much.”</p><p>“Exactly.” The sound of Megatron agreeing with me melted my spark like wax. That feeling would not be lost to me over the next six million years. In fact, it would only grow stronger. “I see a future for Kaon where ‘not much’ isn’t even considered as an answer.”</p><p>I prayed I hadn’t offended him. “Well, this area of the city is quite beautiful. I hadn’t expected to see such high energy. What they say on the news…”</p><p>“I’m well aware of the ridicule that Kaon suffers on the news,” Megatron growled, though his anger wasn’t directed towards me. “Not <em> one </em> reporter has seen how beautiful Kaon shines in the bellows. They see just enough to make <em> assumptions </em>.”</p><p>“I know what that feels like.” My sudden vulnerability surprised me.</p><p>I felt Megatron turn his helm to look down at me. “I’m sure you do.” I flushed and stared at my pedes until he looked away. “Seekers are subjected to a variety of assumptions, few of which are true.”</p><p>My eyebrow cocked and I looked up. How would a gladiator like Megatron know about the social tribulations of seekers? “What have you heard?”</p><p>“That they’re stunning to the optic.” Megatron met my gaze. “And stupid.”</p><p>I smirked smugly. “Only the first half is true.”</p><p>“Yes,” Megatron, “you’ve confirmed that for me.”</p><p>I rubbed my cheek with a servo to cover the color rushing to my face.</p><p>Megatron sensed my pleasant discomfort. “Please, take a seat. I’ve already ordered for us, but there’s a menu on the table if you’d like something else.”</p><p>I took my seat across the titanium table, facing Megatron as he fell into his seat with a grunt.</p><p>“Shouldn’t you be at the pits?” I blurted out before thinking twice.</p><p>Megatron reached forward and grabbed his glass, raising it to his lips. “I’ve been spending less and less time at the arena. I can’t work for Cybertron’s future if I’m too busy slaughtering the weak.”</p><p>I laughed gently, scooting in until my cockpit hit the table. “I’d hardly find a mech willing to fight <em> you </em>weak.”</p><p>He grinned slightly before taking a swig of his drink. “I don’t always kill them, you know, my opponents. If they can best me, I offer them the chance to join me, to work for something <em> more </em>.”</p><p>“Join you?”</p><p>“Haven’t you read the term <em> Decepticon </em>in the news?”</p><p>I crossed my legs and huffed. “The news doesn’t tell me <em> anything </em>. I may have heard a name like that from Senator Proteus, though.”</p><p>Megatron paused. “The night you saved him?”</p><p>“Actually, I became his security after that.” Admitting my employment with Senator Proteus to Megatron felt like adding dirt to the wound.</p><p>“Is that why you took so long to return to Kaon?” </p><p>I chuckled nervously and swirled the drink in my grasp. “I didn’t come back because I was afraid you’d be mad at me for… <em> spoiling </em>your kill.”</p><p>Megatron grinned, clearly amused. “Starscream, I wasn’t <em> mad </em> at you. I understood your motives. I’m sure he returned the favor quite generously.”</p><p>I smirked. “Just financially.”</p><p>“You didn’t enjoy your employment with the senator?”</p><p>My smile faded. I stared into space and gently shook my helm.</p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that.”</p><p>I shrugged. “At least I gained a better understanding of Cybertron’s politics. He actually brought me to their hearings.”</p><p>Hearing this made Megatron’s engine <em> ripple </em>. He opened his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door interrupted our conversation.</p><p>A team of servers pushed their way inside, carrying more food than I would have ever thought to order. The table was quickly filled with delicacies of all varieties, meals I hadn’t thought existed, meals I’d never seen in Crystal City. I grinned and watched the collective steam rise to the ceiling. Megatron waved the servers away and I used my utensil to poke at a type of sea creature wiggling in a bowl.</p><p>“Does that dish displease you?” Megatron asked, mentioning to the bowl before me.</p><p>I blushed and pulled my utensil back into my lap. “No, not at all.”</p><p>Megatron wasn’t amused. “I can have it removed if you so please,” he murmured as he reached for a plate of noodles across the table.</p><p>I knew I had displeased him. My wings lowered in embarrassment and I began to sip from a mystery bowl of soup. In under a collective hour of knowing him, Megatron was already dominating my behavior.</p><p>“Tell me about working for the senator,” Megatron grumbled. He began to order me quite early in our time together. </p><p>I shrugged. “What’s there to say? I attended dinners with him, hung onto his arm, looked pretty, and kept my mouth shut. I was never really his security.”</p><p>“Sounds like you didn’t enjoy your occupation.” Megatron brought a cloth to his lap, pathetically small on his broad lap. His legs dominated the space between us and I felt myself drawing my slender pedes under my chair. “Though it sounds quite lucrative.”</p><p>“Yes, it was. It was also <em> frivolous </em> and <em> empty </em>. I’d never been so miserable.”</p><p>He chuckled. “The idea of materialism is so foreign to the mines on Luna Two. I can’t imagine drawing happiness from <em> objects </em>.”</p><p>“What’s it like? The mines?”</p><p>Megatron’s chewing paused. “Another time, perhaps.”</p><p>I whined quietly. “You’re asking all about <em> my </em> life. I want to know about your life, too.”</p><p>Megatron had already finished two plates. He set them aside and reached for another. “Perhaps you’re right. Let’s take turns.”</p><p>“Alright.” I put down the bowl of soup in my servos. “How old are you?”</p><p>Megatron smirked. “It’s rude to ask a mech their age.”</p><p>I scoffed and slapped my thighs in defiance. “I thought you said we would take turns?!”</p><p>My irritation amused Megatron and he laughed. “We are. And I’m telling you that my answer might surprise you.”</p><p>I enjoyed his playful nature when we were alone. “So, you’re telling me that Megatronus was a personal friend of yours?” </p><p>Megatron’s laughter grew in volume. It made my chair vibrate. “I’m not <em> that </em> old.”</p><p>“But you still won’t tell me.”</p><p>He grinned and lifted a second glass to his lips. “No.”</p><p>“Give me a hint.”</p><p>“Why are you so intent on knowing my age? I’ve been serving your city since long before you even crossed Primus’s mind. Isn’t that enough for you?”</p><p>I crossed my arms and feigned annoyance. “It’s <em> weird </em> for older mechs to hang out with seekers.”</p><p>Megatron smiled. “I’m not ashamed to be seen with you. Are you?”</p><p>My act faded away. “No,” I whispered.</p><p>“My turn,” Megatron mused. “How old are <em> you </em>?”</p><p>“I turn five hundred next decacycle,” I murmured.</p><p>Megatron chortled. “Less than a thousand years old? My, my, you haven’t even had the chance to <em> live </em>.” </p><p>I scoffed. “I’ve lived <em> plenty </em>.”</p><p>“Mm,” he grinned. “I’m sure.”</p><p>“<em> My </em> turn. What’s a decepticon?”</p><p>Megatron’s smile turned to a stern frown and he pushed his dish away. “I have a feeling you’ll be hearing that name quite frequently in the near future. Do you know what functionalists are?”</p><p>I rolled my optics. “Yes, yes, <em> form dictates function </em>. What about them?”</p><p>“During your time with Senator Proteus, did you see the way functionalists treat our working class?”</p><p>I wasn’t sure how much information I should reveal. “I heard you killed Senator Decimus.”</p><p>Megatron placed his glass down and leaned forward. “Yes, I did.”</p><p>My wings trembled. Megatron intimidated me like no other. “Why?” I whispered.</p><p>“I’ve been a miner for over three million years, Starscream.” Megatron looked into my optics as if he were holding my fragile spark in his massive hands. “Energon mining is all I know. Imagine your government taking away your wings because they suddenly found them to be <em> obsolete </em>. You would be outraged, would you not?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t let them take my wings.”</p><p>“<em> Exactly </em> . I didn’t have that choice.’ Megatron leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I couldn’t <em> force </em> Senator Decimus to return our jobs, but I could make him <em> pay </em> . I could make all functionalists see that our working class isn’t some kind of <em> burden </em> that can be discarded. They automated our jobs and tried to take our lives away from us, and it wasn’t the first time they’ve tried to crush our sparks. The senate preaches <em> innovation </em> for all Cybertronians, but in reality, their innovation only helps the rich get richer. You wouldn't believe what I've seen in my life time, Starscream. I've seen my comrades' faces smashed in and left for dead, all because they couldn't meet their quota due to <em>energon fatigue</em>. I've seen limbs torn away in fights for a measly gallon of fuel. I refuse to stand idly by and watch my brothers continue to die for the sake of functionalist madness. Their innovation of Luna Two was my last straw. Their disregard for our lives has been the basis of my existence since before my days in Nova Prime I can't live like this anymore. And neither can my brothers. But will they tell the public of our oppression? Of <em>course</em> not. If they <em>allow</em> energon miners to realize that they have the right to control their own lives, they could revolt, and that means no more <em>cocktail</em> parties for the senate. From the look on your face, I'm guessing you had no idea. Of course you didn't. You are being decieved.”</p><p>
  <em> I overheard Sentinel Prime discussing insider information that Megatron is building a fanclub of sorts, mechs intoxicated by his words and blindly following his new mantra. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Mantra? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You are being deceived, and I have an ugly feeling that Megatron is referring to us. </em>
</p><p>I looked down at my lap. “I didn’t know that.”</p><p>“Of course you didn’t,” Megatron scoffed. “What reason would Senator Proteus have to tell the <em> truth </em> to his people? He can’t profit from truth. <em> We </em>can.”</p><p>My night in Velocitron flashed through my processor.</p><p>“I want to help,” I blurted. “I want to help my people, too.”</p><p>“Tell me your vision.”</p><p>“I want seekers to be taken <em> seriously </em> ! I’m <em> sick </em> of my race being treated like sexual <em> commodities </em> .” I felt my anger rising. “I met a midnight conjux who’s entire life is bound by contract. Even if she escaped her master’s house, she would be hunted down and <em> dragged </em> back to Crystal City. I have the ability to change that, Megatron. I <em> won’t </em> waste it.”</p><p>Megatron reached forward and took my servos. I clutched them tightly, the tips of my cobalt claws barely touching his palm.</p><p>“How will you save them?”</p><p>My breath had become ragged. Adrenaline and rage coursed through my body. “Senator Proteus offered me a seat in the audience of the capitol. I refuse to be a <em> spectator </em> . I’m going to find a way to <em> make </em> them hear our voices.”</p><p>My answer had pleased Megatron. His thumbs rubbed over my digits. “I feel the same way, Starscream. They will have no choice but to hear us.”</p><p>“I want to help you,” I breathed. “I want to help my people.”</p><p>“Do you trust me?” Megatron whispered.</p><p>“W-What?”</p><p>“Do you <em> trust </em> me,” Megatron repeated, much more stern. “Starscream, I have a plan written out for the future of Cybertron. It’ll work, but it won’t be pretty. Do you have what it takes to be a part of that plan?”</p><p>“I… I think so.”</p><p>Megatron shook his helm. “That isn’t good enough. I want you to <em> know </em> that you have enough to alter the future of Cybertron <em> forever </em>.”</p><p>This was it. This was my future. I could see my gelded throne before me. All I had to do was <em> take </em> it.</p><p>“Yes, I have what it takes.”</p><p>Megatron rose to his pedes, his servos still clutching mine like a vice. I stood with him.</p><p>“I want you beside me, Starscream,” Megatron rumbled. “I want you to lead Cybertron into the future with me.”</p><p>I grinned, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks. Never before had a mech shared my excitement for fixing the cybertronian government. I wasn't sure how I would do it, or what it would take, but I knew that with my connections with the senate and Megatron's support of the pits, we could be unstoppable. </p><p>I wish I had seen through his facade.</p><p>"I see fire in your optics," Megatron smiled. "I'm glad you came back to Kaon, Starscream."</p><p>"I only wish I had come back sooner."</p><p>"Don't. We have plenty of time to make up for that.”</p><p>I let go of his servos, taking a moment to wipe my cheeks. Suddenly, I found myself laughing.</p><p>“What’s so funny?”</p><p>I shook my helm in awe of the night I had experienced thus far. “I just agreed to help you topple the Cybertronian government without even asking how we’ll do it. You have quite a way with words.”</p><p>Megatron smirked. “So I’ve heard. Shall we take this conversation elsewhere?”</p><p>I would have followed him anywhere. I nodded with an embarrassing degree of vigor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Arboretum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Megatron and Starscream visit the Kaon arboretum.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What makes you think your fans would be willing to follow you into a potentially violent topple of an established senate? I hate to say it, but most of your fans come for </span>
  <em>
    <span>entertainment</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piercing rain hammered against the windows of Kaon’s Arboretum, a long since abandoned collection of alien plant life gathered from every corner of the galaxy. Although they hadn’t been trimmed in centuries, their branches had continued to grow, twisting through the vaults of the ceiling. I toyed with the ivy rope in my digits. Megatron and I sat beside each other on an old velvet divan, watching the rain and assembling the pieces of our lives through spoken and silent conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron crossed his legs, the lackluster divan struggling to accommodate his frame. I squeaked as a sudden thunderclap shook the museum, causing Megatron to chuckle and brush his servo over my shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” he replied. Our vocalizers were shot, lined with static as we spoke. We had been talking for hours. “I’m well aware of my comrades handing out invitations to the pits as if they were tickets to a sports match. It attracts the wrong crowd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>crowd, then?” I let go of the vine, leaning my helm back until I could study the intricate growth pattern of the trees above us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> crowd is one that </span>
  <em>
    <span>connects</span>
  </em>
  <span> with the gladiators. They can see themselves in the fighter’s pedes, driven to the point of murder for the chance to win some energon, maybe some parts. They are only gladiators because their government has abandoned them. They cannot turn to the so-called </span>
  <em>
    <span>resources</span>
  </em>
  <span> available to them. The enforcers have offered shelter and energon, but in reality, it’s just a ruse to meet their cycle quota of arrests. Any mech who asks for their services must hand over their identification. The enforcers then use that identification to check for warrants, and the majority of mechs who flock to the arena have </span>
  <em>
    <span>several</span>
  </em>
  <span> warrants for their arrest. The right crowd has nowhere else to turn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if you have enough of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> crowd to intimidate the senate. What reason would they have to listen to you if they can just arrest the lot of you and be on with their day? They’ve been waiting to arrest you, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, firstly, I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> numbers. I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>intelligence. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There’s no point in having a large army if their general can’t even read a map, no? My ideal team is a small group of specialists who are loyal to the last breath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I frowned. “If you want specialists, I don’t think I’m the right mech for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a valedictorian scientist. Don’t underestimate your worth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My brows furrowed in puzzlement. This was the second time tonight that Megatron had mentioned something about me that I hadn’t remembered telling him. “When did I say I was a scientist?” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron grinned. “You told me in the restaurant. Don’t you remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip. I didn’t want to sound stupid. “Oh, right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I value your intelligence, Starscream. I think you’d be a lovely addition to my team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I fought a bashful smile. Megatron’s words of praise had always </span>
  <em>
    <span>fueled</span>
  </em>
  <span> my pride, even more so in the war as their occurrence grew sparse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just confused,” I murmured. “I don’t know how chemistry could help a political cause.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve recently been in touch with a scientist, a weapons specialist. He’s been working on a new energy source, an alternate form of energon. I can’t seem to remember what he’s calling it. Either way, he says he’s run into a… </span>
  <em>
    <span>block</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could probably fix the issue.” I studied my claws in an attempt to appear disinterested, as if the complexities of energon were a mere </span>
  <em>
    <span>trifle </span>
  </em>
  <span>to a scientist like me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron nodded. “Yes, that’s what I was hoping for. He says a chemist would be the ideal assistant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Assistant</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” I hissed. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> one’s assistant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I misspoke. He simply needs a partner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I crossed my arms. “Now I see why you invited me to help you. You need a </span>
  <em>
    <span>chemist</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron placed a servo on my silver thigh. “Actually, the chemistry is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bonus</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I invited you to help me because I value your vigor, Starscream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Professor Cloudblade crossed my processor. I smirked. “What does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I watched your graduation the day it aired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blushed, flooded with humiliation. I had been so awkward at that age, a budding adolescent discovering the ecstasy of Vos’s nightlife. “You did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and I loved it. You were so </span>
  <em>
    <span>eloquent</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You may have been at the Academy, but I was in the streets of Iacon as it aired. You didn’t see the crowd around me. They were stunned. No student of the Academy had ever given such an inspiring graduation speech.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrugged, looking away. The rain bashed against the glass outside. “That was nothing. I didn’t even rehearse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because you didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to. Inspiring the people comes naturally to you. For a brief kilk or so, you gave the audience pride in their own race they hadn’t even known was there. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can use that ability to inspire our comrades to fight for their freedom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rubbed my neck. Surely, he was being dramatic, but the admiration growing in my spark clouded my processor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron pressed on, “You’ll need the ability to speak if you are to lead, especially if you will be speaking for the senate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How will I even get the senate to take me seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron crossed his arms. “Let’s say you were to </span>
  <em>
    <span>end</span>
  </em>
  <span> the crimes of Kaon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My lips twisted in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The senate believes that the pits of Kaon is my source of power,” Megatron growled. “How foolish they are to believe that I gain strength from slaughter. I joined the fight because I had no </span>
  <em>
    <span>choice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. When Senator Decimus told us that our jobs had been terminated, one of my comrades cried out in protest. Rather than listening, the autobot enforcers killed him. I couldn’t take it. I drove my axe through Senator Decimus’s spark. When I awoke, I found myself on a prisoner transport shuttle alongside my brothers. I had to repay my debt. I took control of the ship and fired upon the Senator’s shuttle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>how he died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I licked my lips, suddenly parched. Megatron </span>
  <em>
    <span>inspired</span>
  </em>
  <span> me and shook me to my core simultaneously, simply by speaking. “Senator Proteus told me that you killed him when he fired you. He hadn’t mentioned that you were arrested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron let out a frustrated chuckle. “No, he wouldn’t. That prisoner transport was escorting us to our deaths. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> be the end. I brought the shuttle to Kaon and we used its scraps to rebuild an abandoned arena. My debt had been repaid, but my comrades deserved a new life. We needed to find a way to keep functioning. We needed energon. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>why we began fighting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I paused before speaking, my words tangled around my tongue. There was so much I wanted to say to him. There was so much more to him than met the eye. “Are you saying you want to stop fighting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron shook his helm. “I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>stop fighting. However, the arena is becoming obsolete. I’ve made enough money for my comrades to eat and drink to their spark’s content. The fighting has become entertainment. I don’t like it. That wasn’t what I wanted. I never wanted the fighting to become anything other than a way to live another day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does that have to do with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron met my gaze. “Starscream, if you were offered a position in the senate, how soon would you feel ready to begin serving Cybertron?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Serve the senate?” I faltered, rubbing my arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We are nothing but memories and playthings</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it shall be.” Megatron stood, offering a servo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm in bewilderment. “Wait, I’m confused. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span> does your arena have to do with me? What’s the plan here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure yet,” Megatron admitted, “but you’re a part of the plan now. I’ll be in touch after I’ve had some time to think. For now, you should be getting home. Your trine must be wondering where you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrugged. “The tracker chip on my desk at work says otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron grinned. “I’ve heard seekers were sly creatures, but you’re-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I yanked on his servo as I stood, cutting off his words. He opened his mouth to speak, but my optics spoke for him. He nodded and we began walking out of the arboretum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As we made our way to the rooftop, I felt a question push to the front of my processor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you doing in Vos?” I asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s footsteps echoed through the hall. “When?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Effigia Coelum</span>
  </em>
  <span> a few decacycles ago,” I replied. “I was at dinner with my trine. I saw you in a booth. I… I thought you saw me, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron huffed. “I’ve never been to Vos. Perhaps all miners look the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>positive </span>
  </em>
  <span>that I’d seen him. And hadn’t Hook mentioned challenging Megatron to a drinking competition? “No, I didn’t mean that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled. “It’s true, regardless. Our creators fashioned our bodies in a way that made it </span>
  <em>
    <span>difficult</span>
  </em>
  <span> for us to form our own personalities. They wanted us </span>
  <em>
    <span>in sync</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you could say. My comrades and I didn’t even have names until we landed in Kaon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have </span>
  <em>
    <span>names</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Suddenly, I had a new level of respect for energon miners, even if they could be as mindless as Hook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron nodded. “I took my name from Megatronus, but I’m sure that’s quite obvious. The others named themselves after their specialties in the mines.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t sure if I had the right to ask. “What did they call you before Kaon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-16. I worked in sector D on Luna Two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ouch</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rain slipped through rusted cracks in the ceiling. I ducked to avoid a leak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s it like being constructed?” I murmured, bringing a servo up to my cockpit, feeling the warmth of my spark beneath the thick glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s it like being naturally constructed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I paused. “I woke up and I was alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I was a foolish sparkling,” I backtracked. “I had to learn everything through the help of others. I was afraid of the dark. I was afraid of lightning. Do cold constructed mechs experience that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before they give us our sparks, our processors are installed with the knowledge of full grown mechs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never felt the need to play?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shivered, though not from the cold. I couldn’t imagine a life without adolescence. How could a mech properly develop without at one time believing their entire world was their family?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron read my thoughts. “I have no quarrel with my creation. I’m thankful for having a miner’s body. In fact, I’m thankful for my strength or my heightened vision in the dark. I only wish I had been given the </span>
  <em>
    <span>choice </span>
  </em>
  <span>of fate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics scanned his hulking arms as he pried open an offlined door for me. I stepped out into the rain. “I won’t lie to you, Megatron. I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have a grounder’s body.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being unable to fly is… How could anyone live like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron huffed condescendingly. “I heard that seekers were animalistic, but this is outrageous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scowled. “It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> a seeker thing, you know. Ask any airborne mech and they’d say the same: Our wings are a blessing. I guess you wouldn’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, Starscream, I wouldn’t.” Megatron reached beside him and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ripped</span>
  </em>
  <span> a chunk of corroded metal from the arboretum’s outer wall. I yelped as it swung towards me, covering my optics and cowering, almost as if my spark knew that he would hurt me for years to come. But no pain befell me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are things about me that you wouldn’t understand, either,” Megatron whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My servos lowered and I looked up. Megatron held the metal wall above me, shielding me from the rain. It must have weighed more than a ton, yet he wasn’t even shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have much to learn about each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I suppose so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In one sweep of his arm, Megatron sent the chunk of wall careening into the night. I heard it crash and skid to a halt somewhere in the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go home,” he commanded. “You’re well past your curfew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the look in his optics told me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>consider </span>
  </em>
  <span>otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Starscream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My tanks dropped. “I didn’t mean to… offend you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron smirked. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not offended.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words weren’t enough for me. I had been waiting so long to speak to him, and I didn’t want this to be the last time. “When I was young, I had a… bad experience with a miner. I guess I haven’t had much grounder experience since then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron grinned. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> young, Starscream. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Very</span>
  </em>
  <span> young.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grimaced and stepped back to transform. “Forget what I said, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s grin vanished and he reached for my servo. I yanked it away. That was how we would spend the war: fighting for dominance, fighting for forgiveness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize,” he stammered. “You must understand. I’ve never personally known the next generation of Cybertron. Everything about you is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>new</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sneered and retreated further, though inside my spark, I was gushing from his desperation to regain my respect. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Like</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you weren’t there, but I’ve felt far too much sparkache for one mech, Starscream. I suppose you’ll hear all of it someday, but… believe me when I say I see a brighter future for cybertron in your optics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My charade faltered. My lips twisted in flattery that I hadn’t expected. I had never received a compliment quite that… </span>
  <em>
    <span>eloquent</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I watched Megatron’s pedes walk up to me, and when he took my servo, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure I’m not just another </span>
  <em>
    <span>admirer</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” I whispered, failing to fight as Megatron held my jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t take admirers to dinner,” he replied, his voice rumbling in my chassi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pushed slightly into the servo on my jaw. They felt like Jetfire’s, their strength able to rip the wings from my body, yet gentle enough to caress me in just the right way to wish they’d never leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You scare me,” I breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind howled as Megatron considered his response. I watched the stars twinkle on the horizon of Kaon. Luna Two glowed radiantly among them. “I would never hurt you, Starscream. Even in the arena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm. “I know you wouldn’t.” I’m ashamed to say I meant it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why are you shaking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My cheeks flushed with color. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid of losing another mech I care about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron chuckled in my audial. “But you’ve only just met me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scowled, humiliated. I tried to pull away, but a servo flashed to my waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The way of the energon miner is to </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>get attached.” Megatron gently pulled against my waist, drawing me up to his chassi. I braced my servos against him, as if a physical restraint could protect me. “We watch our brothers be crushed by falling rock, pinned and left to die. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Believe </span>
  </em>
  <span>me when I say I know how it feels to lose a loved one. I’m not going anywhere, Starscream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My breath hitched. In less than two solar cycles, I had grown </span>
  <em>
    <span>painfully</span>
  </em>
  <span> attached to Megatron. My trine had been selected by </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods</span>
  </em>
  <span> to complete me. Jetfire had rescued me as a newborn and raised me as his own. Megatron had bought me </span>
  <em>
    <span>dinner</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thumb rubbed my face. I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying. I was such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>crybaby </span>
  </em>
  <span>back then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said that, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I suppose I have millions of years to show you otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked up at Megatron, my optics begging for mercy. “Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron smiled gently. “I’ve been wondering that since the day you came to Kaon three hundred years ago. I’ve been under your spell ever since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics widened. “You remember that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was never one to believe in fate, but you were always meant to stand beside me. I’ll do </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever </span>
  </em>
  <span>it takes to keep you in my life. I’d kill for you, Starscream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t have protected myself if I tried. The energon on Megatron’s breath warmed my cheeks. A digit raised my chin. I allowed him to kiss me.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Luna One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream begins his work for Megatron.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Within a solar cycle, I was working for Megatron. The next morning, I was summoned to Luna One. Megatron had made connections with a small group of graduate scientists who specialized in weaponry for the autobot enforcers of Iacon. Their laboratory was top notch, even better than the Academy’s. The autobots had commissioned its location for </span>
  <em>
    <span>control</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a way to track who flew in and out of Cybertron’s atmosphere. When I landed on the high tower of the laboratory, I may as well have been a regular. Security took one look at me and led me inside, having me stand before a gray wall for a quick photo. Before I could process what was happening, they had added my name to their computers and handed me a chip for my wrist. My key card. And I had been given unrestricted access.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had never seen a grounder’s laboratory before. The low ceilings and bright lights disoriented me. One of my new colleagues brought me to my freshly polished desk at the end of the lab. No one had interviewed me. No one had thought to ask for qualifications. No one had even asked my </span>
  <em>
    <span>name</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My task was simple: I was to decode a stack of data that could lead the autobot enforcers to a recently discovered form of energon. While on a routine geologic scan, a group of researchers had discovered trace amounts of energy radiating from the core of Cybertron. At the time of its discovery, the idea of traveling to the center of our planet was unheard of, but as soon as the autobots and the senate realized they could potentially </span>
  <em>
    <span>harness </span>
  </em>
  <span>this previously undiscovered source of energy, the race was on. I was to find a way to contain the new type of raw energon. I was to develop a canister.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was so enamored with the Luna One laboratory that I quickly lost track of time, getting to know my new colleagues and familiarizing myself with the lab’s stock. It wasn’t until the Academy called that I realized I was late for work. I apologized and said that I had come down with some kind of virus, that my medic had put me on bedrest. The Academy had given up on disciplining me centuries ago. I was family, afterall.</span>
</p><p><span>I </span><em><span>loved</span></em><span> the challenge of my new assignment. Before Luna One, I had spent my scientific career developing products for various medbays around Cybertron, </span><em><span>wasting </span></em><span>my potential on making medics’ lives easier. Before Luna One, I was a </span><em><span>manufacturer. </span></em><span>With Jetfire, I was an arborist.</span> <span>Now, after three hundred years, I was </span><em><span>finally</span></em><span> a chemist.</span></p><p>
  <span>By the time I slid under the covers of my berth alongside Thundercracker and Skywarp, I was utterly </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhausted</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The excitement and happiness of new beginnings had always drained me. I was more than ready to begin my work for Megatron. I was ready to be a chemist. If only I had seen how </span>
  <em>
    <span>curious </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was that Megatron already had a name plate engraved for my desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as my “virus” cleared up, I asked for reduced hours at the Academy. They were happy to oblige. They couldn’t afford to lose my intellect. I began my work on Luna One with a sparkling’s level of enthusiasm, rising before dawn and returning well after sundown. I no longer had the desire to go clubbing on weekdays, much to Skywarp’s disappointment. Even my weekends were occupied, though not from work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you were to ask Thundercracker and Skywarp who I was during that last, precious century before the war, they would say I was the Academy’s most </span>
  <em>
    <span>dedicated</span>
  </em>
  <span> chemist, leaving his trine -even on weekends- to develop </span>
  <em>
    <span>exciting</span>
  </em>
  <span> new products for Cybertron’s most esteemed medics. And I should have been. I should have spent every waking </span>
  <em>
    <span>moment</span>
  </em>
  <span> with them. The tracker chip collecting dust on my desk at the Academy would say otherwise. The tracker chip would tell you the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In reality, I spent my last days of freedom on Luna One, The Vos Academy of Science, and in the company of Megatron. Guilt keeps a mech busy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of each week, I was summoned to Megatron’s side. Regardless of the night’s plan, they began the same way: my progress report on the development of the raw energon canister. It wasn’t long until Megatron began asking that I bring him data from the laboratory, data I wasn’t allowed to release, data he wasn’t allowed to see. I was powerless against his charm, his charisma. The way he </span>
  <em>
    <span>spoke</span>
  </em>
  <span> about Cybertron’s future… It would have intoxicated any young seeker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If we were to lead, we couldn’t restrain ourselves to Cybertron’s borders. Megatron and I began exploring the far reaches of our galaxy, savouring delicacies on neighboring allied planets, soaking our bodies in natural oil springs carved into the sides of dormant volcanoes, ambling through art shows expressing frustration on the autobot’s growing political influence, gambling on races run by organic life forms. It only took a few deca cycles before we began reaching </span>
  <em>
    <span>beyond</span>
  </em>
  <span> our galaxy, treading the waters of what would become our battleground. For Skywarp and Thundercracker, I was on expeditions for the Academy. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>proud </span>
  </em>
  <span>of me, and I was lying straight through my denta. How could I tell them the truth? That I was gearing up for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>war</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As lovely as the adventures with Megatron became, the highlight of every meeting was our conversations. Megatron and I could talk for </span>
  <em>
    <span>cycles</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and we did. Megatron saw a side of me that no one else did. I never felt embarrassed to be myself with him. Whenever I became enveloped in some kind of rant about my dream of Cybertron’s ideal future, Megatron </span>
  <em>
    <span>listened</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He looked into my optics and I saw genuine curiosity. At least, that’s what I thought it was. He was the most intelligent, charming mech I’d ever met. His vocabulary was beyond me. I found myself flushed when he spoke. For the first time in my life, I began to see the value of grounders. Finally, I could see the world from their optics. Megatron had given me that ability. His promises intoxicated me. I was utterly enamoured by him. When we were together, I was no longer a seeker. He was no longer a miner. We were just two cybertronians sharing a dream for the future. Our friendship felt like it was always meant to be, and when it inevitably became more than a friendship, I no longer had the strength to fight. Perhaps I never had the strength to begin with.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. What Could Have Been</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream receives his first test as a decepticon.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WHY DO I ALWAYS CRY WHEN I WRITE ABOUT TRINES also writing about the world's most dramatic seeker leads to a lot of cliches</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Megatron was reading in berth by the time I arrived. The balcony windows reflected the violet lights of Kaon as I struggled to unlock the glass door.</p><p>I had no desire to bathe or eat. My work on Luna One demanded <em> all </em> of my attention. If I were to contain this mysterious new form of energon, I had to <em> harness </em> it as well. My colleagues and I had recently named it <em> dark energon </em>, a name derived from its location in the depths of Cybertron, a level of crust that had never seen the light of day.</p><p>“Good to see you, too,” I hissed, irritated that Megatron hadn’t acknowledged my return. He had been developing a habit of only greeting me when he <em> wanted </em> something.</p><p>Megatron grunted. I rolled my optics and climbed under the covers next to him. My wings folded with a <em> hiss </em>.</p><p>“What of your progress on Luna One?” he asked nonchalantly. He didn’t even look up from the datapad in his servo.</p><p>I grimaced. “I had a wonderful day. Thank you for asking.”</p><p>His apology came in the form of an arm wrapping around my waist. He dragged me close enough to cut air from my fans. I gasped and fought against his strength, a fruitless effort.</p><p>“<em> Ow </em> !” I hissed. “Let <em> go </em> of me, you <em> brute </em>!”</p><p>Megatron wiggled his arm to gently shake me. “Don’t be like that. What’s the update on your work?”</p><p>I fought until he released me. I rolled over and adjusted my pillow, making sure to avoid the probing digits searching for my aft.</p><p>I felt a datapad land on the blanket behind my pedes. “How was your day?”</p><p>“User unavailable,” I murmured, my optics shut. “Currently in recharge.”</p><p>Megatron chuckled, rolling towards my back and yanking me towards him. My seeker vocalizer let out a low growl, warning him to back off. In response, he thrust a leg between mine.</p><p>“<em> Primus </em> , go <em> away </em>!” I whined, kicking my pedes. They banged against his shins.</p><p>Megatron’s arms locked around my waist, one wrapped around my cockpit. He held me as I fought against him, waiting for me to run out of steam. Eventually, I let out a final hiss and fell limp.</p><p>Tender kisses lined my neck. At one point, the covers were pulled over us and tucked under my chin. Megatron said something in a Kaon dialect and the lights shut off. For a few kilks, we lay in darkness as horns and thrusters echoed through the open window. I panted quietly, recovering from my struggle.</p><p>“Tell me about work.”</p><p>I kept my optics shut, trying to ignore him. His jet black servo settled on my jaw, bringing my lips to his. I must admit, he was a <em> phenomenal </em>kisser back then.</p><p>Megatron’s crimson optics glowed radiatantly in the darkness. I finally regained my breath.</p><p>“It’s ready,” I whispered.</p><p>Megatron’s engine rumbled in subtle excitement. “The canister is ready?”</p><p>I nodded. “I want to fix some kinks in the emergency release system before I send it off to the manufacturer.”</p><p>The rumbling paused. “How severe is it?”</p><p>“Not. But a failed emergency release could lead to an explosion. I don’t want my invention to cause any casualties.” As excited as I was to discover a <em> remarkably </em> stronger form of energy, an energy that could potentially power all of Cybertron for a <em> fraction </em> of the energon we used now, I was…</p><p>Frightened.</p><p>“Don’t bother with <em> kinks </em>,” Megatron grumbled. “There’s no place for anxiety in science.”</p><p>I shook my helm, my lips twisting into a frown. “There will <em> always </em> be a place for anxiety in science. There always has been. When chemists fail to double check their work, mechs die.”</p><p>Megatron shrugged. “It’s usually the user’s fault.”</p><p>“So, there’s no point in reducing the risk?” My neck twisted to look back at him. His optic hovered mere millimeters from mine. I searched for a twinkle, yet all I saw was fire.</p><p>“Death is unavoidable, Starscream. There’s no point in delaying the end.”</p><p>I smirked. “I don’t know what you say in the mines, but death is abso<em> lutely </em> avoidable here on Cybertron.”</p><p>Megatron huffed in defiance. “The mines would have shown you the truth. I survived the freak accidents and collapsed support beams for a <em> reason </em>.”</p><p>“Oh, you’re <em> immortal </em> now? Jump out and show me your <em> reason </em>.” I jabbed a digit to the window. Megatron reached up and took my wrist in his servo, pulling it down to align with my thigh.</p><p>“My spark might not be immortal, but my <em> ideas </em>are. The deception way cannot be slain. I must lead them to their future. My body will serve me for as long as it takes. Perhaps even longer than yours shall serve you.”</p><p>“<em> Gee </em>,” I keened, “thanks. Aren’t you -what- three times my age?” </p><p>“More than that, I’m sure,” Megatron reckoned, his voice thick with amusement. “But I can keep up with you just <em> fine </em>.”</p><p>I grinned as I was pushed onto my stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Megatron walked in as I was polishing my denta in his washroom.</p><p>“I didn’t expect you to stay the night,” he murmured, hazy from recharge.</p><p>I sent him a glare through the mirror’s reflection. “<em> Thanks </em>.”</p><p>“I didn’t mean it like that.” Megatron wrapped his arms around me, his chin settling on the tip of my wing. “I enjoy your company. But won’t your trine wonder where you are?”</p><p>“They think I’m in Iacon meeting with their surgeon general,” I snarled, “and that’s that.”</p><p>Megatron’s eyebrows raised. “Testy, this morning, are we?” He watched as I took a dental file to the end of a fang.</p><p>I hated being reminded of my disloyalty, my infidelity. I threw down the dental file. It clanged against the sapphire sink.</p><p>“Don’t you have somewhere to be this <em> fine </em> morning?” I hissed, meeting his coy gaze in the mirror.</p><p>“No,” he replied, “but you <em> do </em>.” My communicator beeped.</p><p>“What’s this?” I opened the message. Megatron had sent me some kind of script.</p><p>“You’re going to the capitol today.”</p><p>“The <em> capitol </em>?” I wiggled in his grasp, reaching up for a jar of polish on the shelf beside us. “My shift starts at the Academy in less than a groon.”</p><p>“I thought you wanted to join the senate?”</p><p>The jar fell out of my servo. I twisted back to face him. “<em> Today </em>?!”</p><p>I couldn’t read Megatron’s expression. He blinked slowly. “I asked you when you’d be ready to fight for Cybertron’s future. You said ‘tomorrow’, did you not?”</p><p>My fans struggled to draw air. Adrenaline began to overpower my system. “I- Yes, I did say that.”</p><p>“Then go to Crystal City. Take the space bridge outside Vos.”</p><p>“I-I need better polish than this,” I stammered, fumbling to pick up what I had dropped in the sink. “What do I say to the Academy?”</p><p>“Quit.”</p><p>My fumbling stopped. I met Megatron’s optic in the reflection.</p><p>Megatron read my thoughts. “They’ll forgive you. Especially once you lead your people to societal freedom. You once described seekers as sexual commodities. Today is the day that ends.”</p><p>My lips opened to speak, then closed. “What do I tell my trine?”</p><p>The gladiator frowned. “You’re ashamed of me.”</p><p>I shook my helm. “No. I’m ashamed of myself. I’ve been lying to them for cycles.”</p><p>“You’re the smartest mech I’ve ever known, Starscream.” Megatron placed a servo on my shoulder. “You’ll think of something.”</p><p> </p><p>Thundercracker was the first to notice me when I landed on our balcony. He dashed from the kitchen and embraced me.</p><p>“What a lovely surprise!” he giggled. “How was Iacon? Is it as busy as they say?”</p><p>I gently stepped out of the hug. I kissed his gray servo and held it against my lips. “It is.”</p><p>“Skywarp’s still in recharge. Will you be joining me for breakfast?”</p><p>I shook my helm.</p><p>Thundercracker’s smile faded. “I can’t believe they wouldn’t give you a day off after such a busy trip. Can I at least give you some energon before you go?”</p><p>I nodded. I would need it.</p><p>Thundercracker skipped back to the kitchen like a sparkling. I had seen so little of my trine since I began working for Megatron. I watched his servos prepare a thermos with more love in his touch that I could possibly return. My tanks churned as I realized I would have to crush his joy sooner than later.</p><p>“What’s on the docket for the Academy <em> today </em> ?” Thundercracker inquired with an ecstatic grin. “Dangerous acids? Radioactive goo? Neutralization reactions? I’ve been watching documentaries on TV. Do you know how many of those documentary shows talk about chemistry? I know that TV is bad for you, but Skywarp put on a myth busting type show last night and it was actually really interesting! I guess we just missed you. You’re our <em> chemistry </em> mech, I guess. Do you think Solus Prime assigns opposites in trines on purpose? Y’know, like you and me? I don’t know the first <em> thing </em> about chemistry!”</p><p>He was <em> unbelievably </em>happy to see me. I had never seen him like this. Had I really been neglecting my trine this badly? I placed a servo on the glass protecting my spark and prayed that he would forgive me.</p><p>“Actually, I quit.”</p><p>Our blender sputtered and roared. It had drowned out my words.</p><p>“What was that?” Thundercracker cried over the shredding of foreign fruit. “This thing is so loud! I can’t hear anything!”</p><p>My optics burned. I scowled and took a slow breath. Students giggled outside as they flew west to the Academy.</p><p>Thundercracker cut the blender and began pouring his concoction into a steel thermos. “What was that?”</p><p>“I quit.”</p><p>His pouring paused. He blinked. “Oh… Did something happen?”</p><p>“Yeah,” I murmured. “I… met someone.”</p><p>I watched Thundercracker’s sky blue pedes walk up to me. I accepted the thermos. “You did? Who?”</p><p>I could hide Luna One from them. I couldn’t hide the government. “Last night, as I was heading back to my hotel, I met an energon miner.”</p><p>Thundercracker frowned. “What was an energon miner doing in Iacon? He wasn’t one of those <em> fighters </em>, was he?”</p><p>“Not anymore.” I had to keep cool. “I asked him what he was doing in Iacon. After Senator Decimus fired him, he tried to find work in Crystal City. When that didn’t work, he traveled from city to city looking for a job. No one wanted to hire him. They told him he was too <em> stupid </em> to fit in with society.”</p><p>“What a shame,” Thundercracker sighed. He has always had a pure spark. If not for my lies and deception, I think he would have been a wonderful autobot. He might have even been a prime.</p><p>I nodded. “He asked me to speak to the senate. He doesn’t know where else to turn. I’m going to Crystal City.”</p><p>“Today?” </p><p>“Today.”</p><p>A pair of violet arms embraced me. I hadn’t even noticed that Skywarp had walked in.</p><p>“Did you have to quit your gig just to talk to the senate?” Skywarp mumbled. He smothered my cheek with a sloppy kiss.</p><p>“I didn’t quit my… I’m just taking a break. I’ll go back to the Academy once I’ve done my part to help our working class.” An unnecessary lie. I had spat it out in defense. I couldn’t juggle the Academy, Luna One, <em> and </em>the senate.</p><p>Thundercracker was speechless. His optics watched seekers pass our window, considering his reaction.</p><p>“If you’re going to Crystal City,” he whispered, “you’re not going alone. Let me put on some polish.”</p><p>I shook my helm. “You’ve done enough for me just by listening. I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“<em> Uh-uh </em>,” Skywarp asserted. “We come in a trio. A seeker is never left behind.”</p><p>His blind loyalty angered me. Couldn’t he see through my lies? “<em> No </em> ,” I snapped, harsher than I had anticipated. “I have experience with the senate. You two don’t. You don’t know how <em> perverted </em>they are with seekers.”</p><p>“That’s <em> exactly </em>why we’re coming with you,” Skywarp argued. “I’ll be there to knock any helms that mess with you.”</p><p>I yanked out of his arms with more force than necessary. “<em> No </em>. That’s final.”</p><p>Skywarp grinned, though not entirely out of amusement. “You’re a tough mech, Star. <em> Sexy </em>, too. At least sharpen your claws before you go.”</p><p>I nodded, my processor racing. I gently pushed through my trine and walked to our washroom. I felt their optics watching me. I had the feeling our conversation wasn’t over.</p><p>I had to dig through our cabinet for my finest polish. If a seeker were to lead his people, he needed to look his best. The jar was <em> obscenely </em> small for its price. <em> Spectra Polish </em>. Skywarp had bought it for me to celebrate our bonding ceremony.</p><p>As if summoned, Skywarp’s helm popped into the doorway.</p><p>“Y’know, now that you’re <em> unemployed </em>and all, maybe you’ll have more time with us?”</p><p>My digits trembled as I struggled to polish my face. My spark <em> throbbed </em>with adrenaline. “Most likely.”</p><p>“Do you have any ideas what you’d like to <em> do </em> with all that free time?” Skywarp implored with an innocent tone.</p><p>“<em> Skywarp </em>,” a nervous Thundercracker whined from behind him, “maybe now isn’t the time to discuss this.”</p><p>My polishing paused. I looked back. “Discuss what?”</p><p>“Let’s talk about it when you get back,” Thundercracker suggested desperately.</p><p>Skywarp huffed. “We’ve been waiting for <em> cycles </em>, Thunder! He’ll be too sleepy when he gets back.”</p><p>The door creaked as my trine pushed their way in. I watched Thundercracker sit on the side of our tub, his servos clasped together between his knees. He was anxious. Thundercracker was <em> never </em>anxious.</p><p>I tried to ignore his anxiety to soothe his nerves. I wouldn’t want to be stared at. I returned to my work in the mirror.</p><p>“We were wondering if you’re ready to start a family with us,” Thundercracker whispered.</p><p>My servos froze. When time had last stood still for me, I had been staring into Megatron’s optics in Kaon three hundred years ago.</p><p>“What do you mean?” I breathed. I knew what they meant.</p><p>Skywarp placed a gentle servo on my arm to help me put down the jar. “Y’know, like a sparkling… or three?”</p><p>“<em> SKYWARP </em>!” Thundercracker hissed.</p><p>“<em> What? </em> I’m just answering his <em> question </em> !” Skywarp threw his servos up in defense. “ <em> He’s </em>the one with the carrier module! It’s up to him, anyway!”</p><p>I watched my trine argue in the mirror. They just <em> had </em> to ask me this <em> now </em>.</p><p>Their discourse overwhelmed me. I covered my optics.</p><p>“Star, you don’t have to say <em> anything </em> you don’t want to.” Thundercracker was behind me now. He placed a servo on my wing, a seeker’s way of comfort. “We shouldn’t have asked you so quickly into our bond. Let’s revisit this when you’re ready.”</p><p>I shook my helm. I wasn’t mad at them. I was… <em> happy </em> . I was happy, and I was… <em> incredibly conflicted. </em>I thought of Eclipse. I thought of her optics, the way she looked into mine. I thought of the inspiration that flowed through my spark as I wondered what her life would be. </p><p>I realized that I could either successfully lead my people to their freedom -<em> or </em>- I could watch my offspring explore the world Primus had given them.</p><p>I couldn’t do both. I couldn’t <em>do </em> <em> both </em>.</p><p>That was the day I recieved my first test as a decepticon.</p><p>“Starscream, are you okay?”</p><p>My lips parted. I began to sob.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. The Hearing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream brings an end to the gladiatorial pits of Kaon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I landed on the steps of the capitol with as much flourish as I could muster. Just like the days I waited for Senator Proteus in his private transport, I was the only seeker in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could even </span>
  <em>
    <span>try </span>
  </em>
  <span>to step inside, a stern voice stopped me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see a security pass, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeker</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’ll need an escort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grimaced. “I was serving Senator Proteus </span>
  <em>
    <span>well </span>
  </em>
  <span>before you began spouting unsupported nonsense on television.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prowl’s cherry visor caught the light of Crystal City as he opened the door. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Careful </span>
  </em>
  <span>there. You sound like a decepticon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stepped forward to enter the capitol, but a pearl white arm lowered before my cockpit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I meet one,” I grinned as I met his icy gaze, “I’ll let you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m sure Prowl knew, but visiting the capitol to speak to your senate wasn’t a crime. At least, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet </span>
  </em>
  <span>it wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you here for, anyway?” The lieutenant summoned the elevator when we reached the end of the lobby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I checked for grime on my claws as I spoke. “I’m going to bring an end to the Kaon arena today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prowl’s condescending laugh echoed through the lobby. “Is that so?” The hydraulics in his neck hissed as he looked down at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t bother to look up. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mhm</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elevator doors opened. Prowl motioned to step inside. “Seeing as I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>chief </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the Decepticon Resistance </span>
  <em>
    <span>Annihilation </span>
  </em>
  <span>Act, I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hear how you plan on ending four </span>
  <em>
    <span>hundred </span>
  </em>
  <span>years of Cybertron’s most atrocious gambling scene.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind my optics, Megatron’s script ran in a continuous loop. I was ready. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We </span>
  </em>
  <span>were ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched flyers pass outside the elevator. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prowl’s cocky grin fell to a frown. Perhaps he recognized my confidence, my certainty. He stepped forward, his lips millimeters from my audial. “Listen here, little seeker. I don’t know who you think you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but I can tell you now that you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> in over your helm. Do you know what happens to mechs who cross that dirty </span>
  <em>
    <span>felon</span>
  </em>
  <span> Megatron?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My wings hitched to hit the side of his face. One day </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>soon, the term </span>
  <em>
    <span>little seeker </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be forgotten. I looked back. “That depends on who’s telling the story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prowl’s engine spat smoke. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>threw </span>
  </em>
  <span>me back against the elevator doors. I yelped and tried to shield my face, but he had already wrenched my arms to my sides. His bull bar pinned me down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never really share with civilians, so you’re going to keep this between </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Prowl spat. I flinched as a droplet hit my cheek. “A few cycles after the fights began, when things began to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> pick up, I sent my most </span>
  <em>
    <span>trusted </span>
  </em>
  <span>soldiers to Kaon to find where Megatron might set up next. We knew the first arena would be too small for the numbers being reported. They messed up. They got </span>
  <em>
    <span>caught</span>
  </em>
  <span> somehow. Care to guess what happened next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I craned my neck to avoid the smoke leaking from his grill. “Tried to arrest him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a chance. Megatron didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>give </span>
  </em>
  <span>them the chance. Just before killing him, Megatron </span>
  <em>
    <span>forced </span>
  </em>
  <span>my comrade to watch his partner </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>. From what I heard, the rage put into ripping open his chassi was so excessive that Megatron’s arm </span>
  <em>
    <span>ripped</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of its socket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My fangs glistened in the sunlight. “Why are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>telling </span>
  </em>
  <span>me this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you think Megatron’s homicidal delusions are limited to the rules of duel, you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fool</span>
  </em>
  <span>. When he finds out that you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to bring him down, there won’t be enough left of you for an autopsy. He won’t take mercy on a mech half his size.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked. “I’ll take that chance, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Autobot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above us, the elevator let out a polite jingle. Prowl’s digits relaxed and I fell to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should keep a </span>
  <em>
    <span>leash</span>
  </em>
  <span> on your attitude,” he spat. “I remember when you rescued Senator Proteus in Kaon. I knew you’d been flocking the arena, you and all the other </span>
  <em>
    <span>groupies</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Don’t think for an astro second that I won’t be watching you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grimaced as I flexed a sore wing. “You’ll be licking energon from my </span>
  <em>
    <span>pedes</span>
  </em>
  <span> one day,” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” I walked away, my spark racing. Without intending to, Prowl had given me the final push I needed to succeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus didn’t notice me when I walked into the chamber. No one did. After all, seekers were no more than </span>
  <em>
    <span>decor </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the senate. I may well have been a chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike Megatron, I hadn’t planned to face the senate guns blazing. I sat cross legged among the crowd, perched in the darkness as citizen after citizen were given their two kilks. Trade workers begged for fair salaries. Underpaid educators begged for funding. Carriers begged for censorship on television. They begged for roads. They begged for aerial security. They begged for decency.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all fell on deaf audials.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they would hear me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ticket 090.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rose from my seat, and as I descended the stairs to my podium, I reviewed Megatron’s script for the last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Be polite, but don’t falter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Continue, even if they cut the screen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Control your emotions. Your words will be the flint to their flame.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus smiled as he recognized me. Having been leaning on his elbow for the entire hearing, he sat up and gave a gentle wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime smirked. “With whom do we have the pleasure of speaking with?” As if he didn’t recognize me. I resisted the urge to laugh. Clearly, he hadn’t taken my rejection well. I noticed his optics search for jewels on my neck. If he wanted them back, he was more than welcome to search the Kaon desert dunes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream of Vos,” I grinned, summoning my finest manners, “though I come to you today from Kaon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The word </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kaon</span>
  </em>
  <span> had become a trigger. Simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>naming</span>
  </em>
  <span> the city was a superstition. The senate shifted uncomfortably in their seats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime cleared his throat. “And why have you come from Kaon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here on behalf of </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> energon miners who were wrongfully ejected from their profession, but more specifically, I represent Megatron of Tarn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I had the podium. Control had shifted. Their painfully amusing discomfort confirmed that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>continued </span>
  </em>
  <span>to resist acknowledging my gladiator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream of Vos, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>realize that Megatron is a wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>felon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as well as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>murderer</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked. “No one’s perfect.” If Megatron wanted me to speak through his </span>
  <em>
    <span>exact </span>
  </em>
  <span>words, he could come here </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seeker, you risk much coming to us.” Senator Ratbat rose from his chair. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. What a cocky </span>
  <em>
    <span>rat</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I assume you have come in Megatron’s place so that the coward might avoid his </span>
  <em>
    <span>arrest</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm. “I am no mech’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>tool</span>
  </em>
  <span>” my optics flashed to Senator Proteus “-not anymore. I have come to face you on my own free will. I am here to announce the </span>
  <em>
    <span>end </span>
  </em>
  <span>of Kaon’s gladiatorial pits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime wasn’t amused. “Do you know how many mechs have come to preach the end of Megatron’s slaughter? What makes you any </span>
  <em>
    <span>different</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned around, pointing to the gargantuan screen behind us. “I have some </span>
  <em>
    <span>evidence </span>
  </em>
  <span>that might interest you. May I use the civilian’s screen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the chamber, Sentinel Prime scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you can,” Senator Proteus chimed in. “Please forward your files to the clerk beside you. They will upload the image.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those last astroseconds while I sent Megatron’s video to the senate’s clerk were the last of Cybertron’s political peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the clerk gasped. “I-... I don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime jabbed a digit to the screen. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clerk looked up, her optics </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to hold someone else accountable for ripping the senate’s unison into shreds. I simply grinned and motioned to the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The video began to play. The chamber </span>
  <em>
    <span>erupted </span>
  </em>
  <span>in cries of confusion and disbelief. In the crowd, someone swore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>doctored!” Sentinel Prime roared. “This isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>evidence!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” I replied calmly, “it has audio.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crowd’s howling </span>
  <em>
    <span>vanished </span>
  </em>
  <span>as I tapped a button on the podium, cycling to the next video. On the screen, Megatron sat before a familiar mech exchanging wads of cash.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fifty thousand on Astrotrain? That’s quite a risk, Senator.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not here to ask your </span>
  </em>
  <span>permission</span>
  <em>
    <span>, Megatron. Put the money on the damn triple changer and give me my receipt.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So, you’re confirming fifty </span>
  </em>
  <span>thousand</span>
  <em>
    <span> quid on the success of Astrotrain in the ring?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Megatron’s optics flashed to the hidden camera on his desk. Evidence. He had been planning this for </span>
  <em>
    <span>centuries</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, I am.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I see. Fifty thousand quid on Astrotrain. Good luck, Senator.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The video cut to black. I swallowed my grin and looked up to a mech in the senate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Senator Ratbat,” I mused, “what impression of the senate does </span>
  <em>
    <span>gambling </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Megatron’s arena give to your citizens?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Ratbat fought for words. Sentinel Prime’s armor </span>
  <em>
    <span>rippled </span>
  </em>
  <span>as it struggled to contain his rage. The datapad in Prowl’s servos snapped in half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lieutenant Prowl,” Senator Proteus stammered desperately, “you have access to the file. Does it present any evidence of doctoring?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prowl’s optics burned holes through my chassi. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>livid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Every optic in the room was locked on his face. We were </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>waiting to see what happened next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he growled, “it does not currently present any indications of altering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime’s fist smashed through his podium. Slabs of imported wood fell to the ground as he swung a digit to Senator Ratbat. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>ARREST HIM!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Ratbat hissed, spit flying through his fangs. He looked at me and his claws unsheathed. “I’ll KILL him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I yelped as I realized he was flying right for me. My wings hitched in preparation and my thrusters sent me flying back as the enraged senator’s talons ripped through the civilian podium.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Megatron and I had a DEAL!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My thrusters carried me to the top of the chamber as Senator Ratbat reoriented himself, shaken by his tumble. Sentinel Prime’s alt mode crushed the senate’s podium as he transformed. His cannon rose to Senator Ratbat’s back and fired. The flames that were sent across the chamber were so bright that I had to shield my optics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime was a sloppy brute. By the time the smoke cleared, Senator Ratbat had long since escaped. Dust and debris fell from the fresh hole in the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prowl stepped forward to pursue, but Sentinel Prime’s tangerine servo held him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve just pinged every enforcer on Cybertron,” Sentinel Prime growled. “There’s nowhere he can run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked. Megatron and his constructicons had evaded them for centuries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly but surely, the audience settled. Those who wished to stay returned to their seats. Senator Proteus beamed down at me. It was clear that my two minutes with the senate wasn’t over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime cleared his vocalizer and stood before the rubble of what was once his podium. “Starscream of Vos, you have exposed a Decepticon collaborator in our senate. For that, we are thankful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grinned. “Oh, no need for thank-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>However</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Sentinel Prime interjected sternly, “you have also brought evidence of Decepticon collaboration against </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourself</span>
  </em>
  <span>. In order to acquire security footage of Kaon’s arena, you must have reached a level of trust with Megatron that cannot be measured as simple acquaintances. The level of sensitivity contained in these files forces me to consider you a </span>
  <em>
    <span>subordinate </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the Decepticons. As you know, this is considered probable cause.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t part of the plan. My wings hitched in displeasure. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Arrest</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You must be </span>
  <em>
    <span>joking</span>
  </em>
  <span>! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Senator </span>
  </em>
  <span>who gambled in Megatron’s arena with </span>
  <em>
    <span>taxpayer </span>
  </em>
  <span>money, and you didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. You were outsmarted by a </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeker</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and now you dare to </span>
  <em>
    <span>arrest </span>
  </em>
  <span>me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime scowled. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>highly </span>
  </em>
  <span>recommend watching your tongue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s right. He outsmarted us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime’s optics flared to Senator Proteus. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus grinned as he stood from his seat. “Starscream is no criminal. I’m sure you remember how he protected our senate for a little over a vorn, how he protected </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. During that vorn, Starscream repeatedly mentioned his frustration with the way our senate handled Megatron’s arena. Now, he has brought us an answer. Let us hear it. Then, decide if you still wish to arrest him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prime’s glaring optics returned to mine. “Very well.”</span>
</p><p><span>Senator Proteus opened his servo to me. “You said you bring a way to end the Kaon arenas. Let us hear your plan.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>I shook my helm. “It’s no plan, Senator. If you accept Megatron’s request, the Kaon arena will be demolished by sundown.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Murmurs of excitement filled the room. Senator Proteus raised his servos to silence them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is his request?” he asked fondly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was back on track. For the first time in over several millennia, a seeker had control of the senate. I struggled to maintain a straight face. “Megatron requests that Sentinel Prime televise his confession that there was a Decepticon in the senate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus’s smile fell. Sentinel Prime cried out in defiance, soon followed by the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rose my servo. I wasn’t finished. The commotion settled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My condition for facing the senate, one that Megatron had begrudgingly accepted this morning. “And that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeker</span>
  </em>
  <span> exposed that Decepticon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime’s armor rippled. “What evidence will we have of the arena’s destruction?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron had already answered his question in the script. “If you so choose, you may watch the building fall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I suppose Megatron asks that his criminal record be wiped clean?” Sentinel Prime inquired, his tone full of mockery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked. “He has no such desire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus frowned. “Starscream, how do we know that you weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>coerced </span>
  </em>
  <span>into this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let out a chuckle, though I filtered out the amusement. “How misunderstood our energon miners are, where a mech can’t even help them without suggesting </span>
  <em>
    <span>extortion</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps not extortion,” Sentinel Prime huffed, “rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>compensation</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scoffed under my breath. “I am a valedictorian </span>
  <em>
    <span>scientist</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I have no need for bribes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> did you help him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I grew weary of waiting for my senate to take action.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime settled. They knew I was right. They had been bested by a civilian, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeker</span>
  </em>
  <span>, no less. Who were once their play toys were now exposing flaws in the system. They wanted nothing more than to bring down Megatron, even if they were too foolish to see that this was only the beginning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We must have waited for only a kilk, but it felt like a century. All optics rested on Sentinel Prime. We never broke our gaze, even as he murmured quietly to the senators beside him. Someone was tapping their stylus. My digits flexed in stiff impatience. For a moment, I thought I had gone deaf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” The senate had surrendered. “I accept Megatron’s condition. You are free to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disappointed, I nodded. I had reached the end of my bargaining. The leash had been returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before I could step away from the podium, a senator in red and blue stood from his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t right,” he protested. “This seeker has brought us peace, yet we send him away with nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime let out a sigh full of irritation. “Senator Orion, what say you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young mech spoke with a steady voice. “Let him serve as a delegate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bit the inside of my cheek. I had been expecting some kind of reward, but a </span>
  <em>
    <span>delegate</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s position?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime was just as surprised as I was. “A </span>
  <em>
    <span>delegate</span>
  </em>
  <span>? For serving as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>messenger</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is much more than a messenger,” Senator Orion defended. “In order to attain that recording, Starscream had to traverse the most dangerous city in our galaxy. And he did it alone. He did what none of us have had the gears to do: He </span>
  <em>
    <span>listened</span>
  </em>
  <span> to Megatron. The moment our allies hear of his courage, they will know that Cybertron has a senate who </span>
  <em>
    <span>listens</span>
  </em>
  <span>, no matter the cost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Sentinel Prime could protest, Senator Proteus joined my defense. “Our golden age is ending, Prime,” he added sternly. “Now is the time for progress. We need our next generation just as strongly as they need us. Let this seeker speak for our planet.” Soon, every senator in the room was vouching for me. Everyone except the prime.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fools</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Defending me so blindly, without even considering my validity, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>past</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If it meant delivering my people, I would be whatever they believed me to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel Prime scowled. The decision had been made without him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, I hereby welcome you to the senate of Cybertron.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Fame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream adjusts to his exciting new life as a delegate.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If I thought I understood Cybertron before my work as a delegate, I was a fool. As a bodyguard, I saw what Senator Proteus </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to see. Now, my collar released, I could see who Cybertron </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>was to our galaxy, to our universe. She was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>beacon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The organic lifeforms surrounding our galaxy came to us for guidance, for technology, for science, but, most of all, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>protection</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Unbeknownst to me, the golden age had allowed the autobot forces all the funding their sparks desired. Working alongside my government’s military, walking alongside our generals as we leapt from planet to planet, offering our protection and collecting our debts, I began to think that Megatron was in over his head. How could he </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> go pede to pede with an army like this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t give too much thought to Megatron’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>grand plan</span>
  </em>
  <span>. My new found </span>
  <em>
    <span>admirers </span>
  </em>
  <span>wouldn’t let me. As soon as I stepped out of the capitol on the day of my hearing, a day now engraved in history as the day a seeker delivered Kaon, I was flocked by reporters and fans alike. These were not the same fans who kept my drinks bottomless at places like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hexi Praxi </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eclipse Park</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No, these were fans who saw me for my </span>
  <em>
    <span>accomplishments</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not my body. I was the first seeker since Solus Prime to serve the senate, and I wasn’t about to let </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>forget it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within cycles, I was summoned to just about anywhere a seeker sparkling might frequent. I visited schools, festivals, hospitals, even orphanages. Anywhere a sparkling might need an extra push to believe in themselves. The planets surrounding Cybertron’s galaxy were beautiful, but the sparklings I visited had my love. The sparks in their optics was my source of energy, my inspiration. I couldn’t let them down. I wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>let</span>
  </em>
  <span> myself fail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As proud as they were, Skywarp and Thundercracker had a much harder time adjusting to the attention. As seekers, we were accustomed to a base level of attraction from grounders, but my accomplishments had stamped targets on our foreheads. Everyone wanted to know where this </span>
  <em>
    <span>mystery </span>
  </em>
  <span>seeker had come from, how an orphaned scientist became a </span>
  <em>
    <span>delegate</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I thrived in the interviews. I began appearing on every channel Cybertron had to offer. The news anchors, the hosts, they all </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>me. I gave them the </span>
  <em>
    <span>drama </span>
  </em>
  <span>they needed. Prowl and I began arguing so feverishly on live television that our bickering became a weekend routine. I loved the attention. I loved the awestruck optics as I touched the desperate servos of crowds. I loved the way mechs fought for even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>moment </span>
  </em>
  <span>beside me on the dance floor. Most of all, I loved the </span>
  <em>
    <span>praise</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was like a drug. I couldn’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it. Every inch of me was worshiped. A few cycles after my initial hearing, I was given the biggest dose of praise a seeker could ask for. I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>scouted</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spectra Polish sent </span>
  <em>
    <span>private </span>
  </em>
  <span>investigators to find me. I rejected the first offer. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>them to chase me. I couldn’t let them know how strongly I adored their body polish. I couldn’t let </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cybertron</span>
  </em>
  <span> know how strongly I adored her. Within a stellar cycle, the founder herself flew to Crystal City to catch me outside the capitol. When she offered me twice my salary, I forwarded it to Megatron within a nano-kilk. I didn’t want the money. I wanted the </span>
  <em>
    <span>praise</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within groons, almost every corner of Vos had my face glowing on an LED screen, my glistening figure provoking the idea of actions left unsaid. It wasn’t long before musicians began paying me to appear in their music videos. I didn’t even have to move. I just had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>show up</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Pop stars began dancing behind me, lip syncing to their hit singles as they wrapped their arms around my waist, the music blaring in our audials. Every cent of my cut was sent to the decepticon cause. Like I said, I had no desire for money.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cybertron had never seen a senate like this, a senate who walked alongside the people. On any given weekend, the lowest citizen could buy me a drink. On a weekday, they could shake my servo as they picked up their sparkling from school. They could </span>
  <em>
    <span>speak </span>
  </em>
  <span>to their government. There was no need for cycles of waiting for a citizen’s hearing. All they needed was a moment of my time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron had no need for me on Luna One. The extraction of dark energon went ahead as planned, and as expected, my canister worked perfectly. Besides the scientists and the autobot enforcers, no one was informed of the newfound energon. It disgusted me. Though I must admit I felt a sense of giddy satisfaction when several canisters of dark energon “exploded” during the transport to Iacon. How foolish the autobots were to employ Kaon’s finest constructicons to reach the core of Cybertron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a touch of guidance from Megatron, more and more shipments to Iacon went missing. All I had to do was coax the details of a delivery from a doe-eyed enforcer. Along with the help of interstellar gunsmiths, the decepticon munitions began to grow. The decepticon cause had been fertilized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The passion Megatron and I shared grew like wildfire. The money, the success, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>danger </span>
  </em>
  <span>of our growing faction fueled the flames. I had never felt so close to him. We were fooling the senate like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sparkling</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and they had no idea. They had removed one decepticon and replaced him with another. I’m sure Prowl had an itch, but what could he do? It was my </span>
  <em>
    <span>job</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep an active update on the extent of autobot weaponry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Decepticon displays grew in numbers. My donations were only a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fraction </span>
  </em>
  <span>of Megatron’s funding. He never gave me a number, but by the time the Kaon arena was demolished, Megatron had made enough money off gambling to buy </span>
  <em>
    <span>several </span>
  </em>
  <span>warships. And that’s exactly what he did. Like a newly bonded couple, we began </span>
  <em>
    <span>browsing </span>
  </em>
  <span>for a new vehicle. Every other weekend, Megatron and I squeezed beside each other in a private transport and slipped through a space bridge to the farthest reaches of the universe. We began purchasing scrapped fighters and bombers, anything that had a chance of being repaired. Megatron had found a deserted moon just outside Cybertron’s galaxy, one just big enough to keep our ships hidden from autobot enforcers, close enough to maintain, yet far enough to avoid attention. We always had a way of… </span>
  <em>
    <span>christening</span>
  </em>
  <span> our new ships.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was lost in the passion of it all. Megatron. The senate. The public attention. Spoiling my trine. I could give my trine anything they wanted. Skywarp was offered the chance to design a line of boxing apparel. Thundercracker… Well, he was never one for capitalism. I loved watching their faces lit up as I brought home gift after gift. I bought the fastest private transport that Polyhexian manufacturers had to offer. I even had it wrapped to match Thundercracker’s brilliant blue. The dancing glimmer of my riches made it easy to ignore the approaching lightning. I was a fool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thunder came in the form of Megatron’s inability to share. He couldn’t stand that I was trined, that I had already been claimed. He had grown possessive, keeping me overnight whenever he could and gripping my hip just tightly enough at dinner parties to pinch. Even the constructicons stopped meeting my gaze. I had never realized how territorial an energon miner could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A seeker’s nature is to be free. When they are restrained, they lash out. We do whatever it takes to be released. I began fighting for my freedom with threats of breakups, threats of telling the senate about our agreement, threats of telling my trine. Megatron always had a way of persuading me otherwise. It came as jewels draped over every inch of my body, whispers of sweet nothings as I sobbed into his shoulder. I learned that passion didn’t mean excitement. It meant screaming at the peak of your vocalizer in the middle of the night. It meant sneaking out of a window to meet with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>mech who understands you. It meant being pushed back into a corner of their apartment as you fought for dominance. Of course, it was always rewarded. The embraces we shared at the end of our fights sent electric chills through the very core of my being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even a century later, I had yet to tell anyone of our relationship. Who could I tell? </span>
  <em>
    <span>No one </span>
  </em>
  <span>understood Megatron like I did. They only saw him as a felon, as a glorious leader. They didn’t see what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>saw. For a relationship like this, you make sacrifices, like keeping your biggest secrets from your trine, the ones who sleep beside you after a day of deception. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>couldn’t tell them about Megatron. It would only drive them away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to tell someone about him. I had never faced a mech like him. Our love fueled the decepticon cause. Even when blood was drawn from my body, I found pleasure. I knew it wasn’t strange. That was just how an energon miner made love. I began to yearn for a second opinion, for someone to listen. I wanted someone to know how much we </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>each other, even if they disagreed. I wanted… someone. Even if they didn’t understand. I was confused. I was starstruck. The only thing I knew for sure was how quickly my spark raced when he met my optic. How </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid </span>
  </em>
  <span>of me to wish for a friend! I didn’t need anyone. I didn’t need Jetfire. No one would understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was ashamed. I knew what we had was an affair. I didn’t want anyone to be mad at me, to be disappointed. If I would be loyal, I would be loyal to Megatron. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>understood </span>
  </em>
  <span>me. Even when he began hitting me, I was loyal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was a good mech.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>starscream you poor confused baby</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. The Ring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream realizes the decepticon cause is closer to home than he thought.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I realized that I'm lacking in fluff.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The door of Skywarp’s gym practically fell from its hinges as I stepped inside. I winced as the rusting hinge squealed in pain before snapping in half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that,” an adolescent seeker chirped from behind the front desk. “No matter what we do, that door falls off eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced back to eye the ropes of dried bondant hanging from the dilapidated frame. Skywarp’s handiwork, no doubt. “I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome to head back,” the seeker promised as he pointed to the tattered velvet curtain at the end of the hall. I smirked as I recognized it as one of the old capes I’d pulled from my closet and told him to donate. Even after bonding to one of the richest seekers on Cybertron, my trine couldn’t resist penny pinching. We had lived such opposing upbringings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar face caught my optic and I looked up. To my surprise, the walls around us had been plastered in clippings, video recordings, and prints of my work as a delegate, and to my horror, a framed print of my debut billboard for Spectra Polish. Skywarp had commissioned someone to frame the print with purple neon. As strongly as it clashed with my crimson figure, I knew what he was saying:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Look what I got</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this a gym or a </span>
  <em>
    <span>shrine</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” I grimaced, waving freshly sharpened claws to the mounted photos surrounding us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teenage clerk let out a gentle chuckle. “Skywarp adores you. We hear all about you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My lips had twisted into a frown, yet my spark was warm. Even after all this neglect, my trine remained steadfast. I had never seen such unyielding loyalty. Well, perhaps once before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could ask if Skywarp was even here, a harsh scrape of metal and hearty laughter spoke for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as I stepped through the crudely hung curtain, I had Skywarp’s attention. Like a fool, he looked away from his opponent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wondering </span>
  </em>
  <span>why I felt cobalt in my spark!” Skywarp gushed. A heavy fist to the cheek and a blow to the stomach sent him flying back across the ring. Silicon ropes thrust him back into the fight, but he was finished. He groaned, clutching his stomach in shame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scoffed under my breath, though I felt myself rushing to his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t the first rule of boxing never to look away?” I whispered, running my digits over his freshly cut cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp let out a pained sigh. “Actually, it’s never bitch when you get your aft handed to you.” We shared a warm laugh before he met my concerned gaze. “I’m glad you finally came, Screamer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The excitement in his voice churned my tanks. We had been bonded for almost a century, yet this was the first time I’d been here.  I could sense the pride in his optics, even for this </span>
  <em>
    <span>tragically </span>
  </em>
  <span>neglected hole in the wall he called his second home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By the look of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>shrine</span>
  </em>
  <span> out front,” I mused, “I couldn’t help but feel summoned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp grinned, the parting of his lips allowing several beads of energon to seep from his denta. “I wish you could see yourself like Thunder and I do, you would understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough chit-chat,” his opponent barked. “Are we doing this or what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My vocalizer spat venom before I could even look up, but my words were cut short when I saw the emblem on his cockpit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skywarp,” I breathed weakly, “why do you have decepticons in your gym?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nameless opponent scoffed, though he said nothing. The room was </span>
  <em>
    <span>full </span>
  </em>
  <span>of decepticons, and although I couldn’t name them, they sure as </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> recognized me. We stood in momentary silence, the seven of us sharing the same look: What are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp chuckled nervously as he sat up. “Oh, come on, Screamer, they don’t raise any trouble. They’ve been coming here for cycles!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until now, the decepticon cause had seemed so </span>
  <em>
    <span>contained</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me. To see decepticons in Vos... in the same room as my </span>
  <em>
    <span>trine</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m leaving,” I whispered, spinning on my thrusters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-Wait!” a desperate Skywarp cried behind me. “Star, it’s not what it looks like!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clerk squeaked a goodbye as I passed his desk. How could Megatron let this </span>
  <em>
    <span>happen</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told </span>
  </em>
  <span>him not to let my trine see any of his damned </span>
  <em>
    <span>crusade</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The last thing I wanted was my family getting wrapped up in this… this…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Star?” Skywarp met me on the balcony, the tape on his digits sticking to my waist as he grabbed me. “Star, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>let me explain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grit my denta, pulling out of his grasp. “I can’t believe you’d let </span>
  <em>
    <span>decepticons </span>
  </em>
  <span>in your gym. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>bought </span>
  </em>
  <span>you this place! And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>defile </span>
  </em>
  <span>it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp was never an eloquent mech. “Star, don’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>worry</span>
  </em>
  <span> about those mechs! They don’t break any rules! All we do is fight! Well- in a good way! We’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>pals</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My helm was spinning. He considered them as </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span> now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I spun to face him, my fangs glistening. “You need to stay </span>
  <em>
    <span>away</span>
  </em>
  <span> from them, Skywarp. The decepticons are nothing but </span>
  <em>
    <span>trouble</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp scoffed, his patience dwindling. “You’re one to talk! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one who got privately invited to Megatron’s arena!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth for a rebuttal, yet nothing came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s irrelevant,” I murmured, looking down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>slag</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is!” Skywarp snapped, pointing a wrapped digit to the glass of my cockpit. “Why do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> get to mingle with decepticons, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip, my processor digging for an answer. I could handle Megatron. I could handle a war. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They </span>
  </em>
  <span>couldn’t. I would see to it that they never had to call themselves soldiers. And so they never had to know they were bonded to a decepticon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never accepted his invitation,” I whispered. “I only went back when I convinced him to shut down the arena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp’s anger began to subside. He hadn’t yet learned to recognize when I was lying. He let out a hollow sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re good mechs, Star,” he murmured. “They just want freedom.” I allowed him to take my servo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had to take a moment to collect myself. “Tell them to leave,” I whispered, “or I’ll have to tell the senate. You know I’m under oath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp opened his mouth, but he held himself back. He knew how strongly I valued my work as a delegate. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>despised</span>
  </em>
  <span> being the one to end his friendship, but how could I lead my people if the senate found out who I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> was?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he whispered, “for you, I’ll tell ‘em.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt myself sway into his embrace. “I’m… Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics slid shut as his spark hummed against my cheek. We stood in silence, his optics locked on the shining stars above us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go home.” His lips brushed gently against the fins of my audial. “You said you’d be home by the weekend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My digits traced the cables of his neck. “I said that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, letting out a low chuckle. The vibrations of his chassi soothed my guilt. “Yes, you did. And Thunder is cooking dinner for </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of us as we speak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was expected by Megatron’s side in thirty kilks, and to meet several </span>
  <em>
    <span>additions</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the decepticon cause. “If I don’t get my reports turned in to the lab by midnight, I’ll have my aft handed to me worse than in the ring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp huffed, half amused, half irritated. “Star, I can handle your constant flaking, but if you break Thunder’s spark tonight, I will personally see to it that you sleep on the couch for the next five stellar cycles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could hear Megatron’s enraged lecturing already. He wouldn’t be happy about this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the decepticon cause didn’t come before family. Not tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp nudged me. I nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” he whispered.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Follow my twitter @gupybot for updates! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Debut</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>During a debut anniversary photoshoot for Spectra Polish, Starscream is given an unexpected gift.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I promise this chapter was worth the wait, because I was able to complete an illustration! You can view it <a href="https://twitter.com/gupybot/status/1379778610643406852"> here. </a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Functionalists believe that every cybertronian is born with a purpose, designated by their bodies. If this is true, my purpose was </span>
  <em>
    <span>unmistakably </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be worshiped. I took to the camera as easily as flight, as if twisting my slender legs and tight waist in remarkable ways to best flatter my frame was an innate behavior. The humans say that although vanity blossoms, it bears no fruit. Yet my work for Spectra Polish produced the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>satisfying </span>
  </em>
  <span>veneration I’ll likely ever experience. It’s easy to shame vanity when you’re not the one being praised like a deity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In front of the camera, I could be myself. The tension melted from my frame, cracking open like a geode, letting the vain thirst for envy come pouring out. I’m never calmer than when my face is being photographed for millions to see. Wrapped in silk, my every move being praised, the air thick with desire, I am home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing I expected was for Megatron to invade my home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s try laying on your side, servo on- yes, exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grinned, my pride immodest. Today would mark the anniversary of my debut for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Spectra Polish</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the day I single handedly tripled their sales. Today, I would recreate that debut photograph, an intimate portrait of my crimson seeker frame wrapped in the finest fabrics Vosnian seamstresses had to offer, the focus on my piercing optics that </span>
  <em>
    <span>seized </span>
  </em>
  <span>the viewer’s spark, yanking them forward to whisper, “Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>try </span>
  </em>
  <span>and look this good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shutters snapped in rapid succession, the lighting of the stage blinding me. I bore the pain, my glistening lips pulled taut into a smirk full of pride. Every </span>
  <em>
    <span>inch </span>
  </em>
  <span>of me was smothered in polish more than twice the strength of whatever product I was selling. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>wore their product on camera. I was the perfect illusion. The image I sold was a body made of dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A grimace passed the photographer’s face. “Your pedes look too thick. Turn your right to the left just a… yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I held my tongue. It had been well over a stellar cycle and I was still adjusting to being pricked and prodded like livestock. As strongly as they worshiped me, they detected each and every flaw on my body. I had begun to consider limb extensions, the company’s passing suggestion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The photographer grunted quietly. We’d been here since sunrise, yet he still wasn’t satisfied. His wings sunk in frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take ten,” he said indignantly, “and someone get me a drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My smirk vanished. I groaned under my breath and allowed my body. My pedes hit the mattress and fabric slipped to the floor. The work was more than worth it, but it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhausting</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Never before had I been expected to hold my body in such preposterous contortions. My arm gave out from under my chin and I clumped a bundle of linen under my helm. I had grown accustomed to dozing off between sessions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I lay upon the bed, I began to grow antsy. Surely, it had been more than ten kilks? I could feel my limbs, yet the silence of the room told me I was falling asleep. My ruby optics fluttered open, gazing lazily about the room, and I found myself alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How dull,” a strong voice murmured behind me, “How can you stand the monotony of it all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My arms thrust me up from where I lay, my helm twisting back to see the gladiator looming above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron!” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron smirked, amused by my shock. He dragged a chair to sit beside me, its metal legs squealing against the apartment tile. “Actually, I own the place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I frowned. “So, you’re a miner, gladiator, revolutionary, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> a freeholder?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron spun the chair, straddling it like an earthling country man. “I’m flattered to know you think of me as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>revolutionary</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I flushed, looking away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t be in a room with him for more than a kilk without getting overwhelmed. Instinctively, I pulled a yard of fabric over my waist. Megatron had a way of making me feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>exposed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and I prayed he didn’t know that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised the senate would let a wanted felon invest in property,” I mumbled, desperate to divert his piercing optics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron shook his helm in my peripheral vision. “I never keep property under my name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched the raindrops slide down the window panes, a gorgeous penthouse studio wrapped in glass from floor to ceiling. The sun was beginning to set. “Why take the risk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another amused chuckle. “Revolutions need funding, Starscream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My cheeks were once again flushed with mulberry. “Sorry I don’t understand </span>
  <em>
    <span>finances</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m too busy being the most lavished seeker on Cybertron.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s chuckle grew to deep laughter. My embarrassment fueled his circuitry better than energon, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence grew. Outside, a flash of lightning touched a skyscraper. As the thunder faded, so did Megatron’s amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to apologize to our new arrivals last night,” Megatron mused, a stern digit rubbing his chin. “Do you know what I had to apologize for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kept my optics down. “My trine was mad at me. They wanted me home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hydraulics in Megatron’s neck hissed as he shook his helm. “That isn’t what I asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My wings lowered, a submissive protocol. “I said I would be at dinner, and I wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Megatron drawled calmly, not entirely satisfied with my apology. “No, you weren’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics flashed to his before darting away. I was getting better at refracting his irritation, yet I could see that his anger was quite pronounced tonight. It had had time to fester.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s vents let out a controlled sigh. “Do you know what kind of impression a no-show gives to our recruits?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I circled the fabric with a lone digit. When I didn’t respond, Megatron stood from his chair and cast it aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A no-show,” Megatron began to explain, circling the bed with a pace that made me stiffen, “means that </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>time is </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> more important than theirs. It means that you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span> if they flew halfway across the </span>
  <em>
    <span>globe</span>
  </em>
  <span> to meet you, that you don’t regard the energon they spent as valuable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was more upset than I thought. Where was the photographer? Where was </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A digit hooked my chin and my face was yanked up. I gasped silently as the wires of my neck were strained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all,” Megatron growled gently, waiting until my optics met his own, “it means you don’t value </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gulped, my tongue dry. “I do value your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron huffed. “I think not. If you can’t even fulfill a promise to arrive at dinner, how could you possibly lead your people to salvation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics widened. My servos found their way to his arm, clinging gently. “I’ll be there next time, Megatron. I promise, I really will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few agonizing moments, our optics remained locked, waiting for someone to falter. I struggled to maintain a steady breath, shaking gently beneath the mech who was soon to become the universe’s most dreaded tyrant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, his anger dissipated. I was yanked forward, yelping before being brought to his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron was grinning when he pulled away. “I know you will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened and a ruffled photographer returned to the studio. I glanced up to Megatron, waiting for the photographer to start screaming. Instead, he merely stepped up to the camera and took a seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get back to it,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My mouth hung agape, darting back and forth to process the sight before me. At my pedes, an officially licensed photographer for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Spectra Polish</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the biggest name brand in body polish history.. On my right, the leader of the decepticons, a growing faction who thirsted for </span>
  <em>
    <span>radical </span>
  </em>
  <span>change, even at the cost of bloodshed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well?” the photographer grumbled. He didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at Megatron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-,” I whispered weakly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have several other engagements tonight to attend to, and I want you to accompany me” Megatron groused beside me. “Hurry up and finish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I settled down before the camera, laying on my stomach and resting the side of my head on my chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax,” the photographer commanded, “your arms are tense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced up to Megatron. “I’m a little caught off guard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron groaned under his breath. “Pretend I’m not here, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked, returning to the camera. “Easier said than done. You block half the stage lights.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within astro seconds, the shutter began to click rapidly. I was flabbergasted. Was the photographer a decepticon? </span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he couldn’t possibly be. A decepticon would be kissing Megatron’s pedes, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>ignoring </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. Why wasn’t he calling for enforcers? Megatron had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bounty</span>
  </em>
  <span>, one that could set a mech up for life. And furthermore, why wasn’t he questioning why a member of the senate and a decepticon were so casually conversing less than an arm’s reach from each other?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My racing thoughts were cut short by the sudden presence on my servo. I looked down to find a silver ring on my left digit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?” I mumbled, unimpressed. It boasted the smallest tanzanite gem I’d ever seen, a diamond cut with some kind of rune engraved atop the stone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A gift,” Megatron replied, crossing his arms with pride. Clearly, he had misread my glaring optics for gratitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My lips pursed. “A little small, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tsk</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you seekers and your gemstones,” the gladiator scoffed. “I don’t give just </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> gifts, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smile tugged at my lips. I was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> one who received gifts from Megatron. At least, that’s what I thought at the time. I was a naive little seeker, clinging desperately for guidance, </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> guidance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I reconsidered my disappointment. My almond optics fell to the ring, finding myself charmed by its humility. The photographer cleared his vocalizer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked up. “Should I take it off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The photographer’s lips parted to speak, yet he said nothing. I caught his glance up to Megatron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he murmured, “it’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An adolescent side of me wanted to wear it. I wanted it to be my secret, that I had worn a decepticon ring for the anniversary of my debut on billboards across Cybertron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time in cycles, I allowed a genuine smile to form. I rested the side of my helmet on my left palm. Like a sparkling, my knees bent and I crossed my legs, my pedes pointed to the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above me, Megatron chuckled warmly. My spark fluttered as I looked up to him. His shadow blocked half of my face. I didn’t care. I wanted Cybertron to know he was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, the shutter began to fire.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Don't forget to check out this chapter's illustration!<br/>Follow my twitter @gupybot for updates &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. The Senators</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We mistake the peace for monotony. Right up until the moment it shatters.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'd like to mention that I AM aware of how my story deviates from the IDW timeline. No, Nominus Prime isn't in this story. And Orion Pax is a senator, not an enforcer. I hope everyone can still enjoy the story &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Funny how the conscious mind fails to recognize prosperity. We spend so much of our lives wishing to return to some point in time or another, willfully ignoring our ability to change the present for the better. After so many years of stability, you begin to falsely believe that happiness is expected, <em> deserved </em> even. We mistake the peace for monotony. Right up until the moment it shatters. I can name the exact day my prosperity shattered.</p><p> </p><p>“Star?”</p><p>“... Mm.”</p><p>Tender digits find their way to my cheek. Someone is touching me. My spark swims in azure waters and I know that it is Thundercracker. He smiles when I open my optics. The sun is rising.</p><p> </p><p>Skywarp’s arms held my waist as he swayed groggily, his morning routine. I leaned forward to rest on the counter as Thundercracker stuffs foreign fruit into a blender, the lack of stability making Skywarp stumble back. </p><p>“You’d wake up a lot faster if you just drank some energizer,” I grumbled to my sleepy trinemate.</p><p>“Don’t need it,” he replied, shuddering as he yawned. “All I need is my morning jog.”</p><p>“Well, <em> go </em>,” I hissed. “I hate it when you use me as a jackstand.”</p><p>Skywarp frowned, his optics shut from the sunrise pouring through the Vosnian skyscrapers surrounding our apartment. He ambled groggily to the balcony and took off.</p><p>“Don’t be mean to him,” Thundercracker chastised. “We don’t see you anymore. He loves when you stay the night.”</p><p>I rolled my optics, smothering the guilt by ignoring the topic of my romantic neglect. “Well, I’ll be home tonight. We should go see a movie.”</p><p>Thundercracker hastily poured his smoothie concoction into a pair of thermoses, my breakfast and lunch. “We haven’t had two solar cycles in a row with you in a <em> long </em> time. We’re staying home.”</p><p>I whined under my breath as I released my cockpit seal. Thundercracker gently placed the thermoses inside my cargo hold. “You two always want to stay home. I haven’t been to a club in cycles. Skywarp doesn’t even want to party anymore.”</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with a life of humility, Starscream.” Thundercracker took my servo as we walked to the balcony. The senate’s private transport was waiting for me, my morning commute. “Just being close to you makes us happy.”</p><p>I smirked. “It just feels like you two never want to <em> do </em>anything. I thought seekers were social creatures.”</p><p>Thundercracker gave me a displeased look. “Careful of the stereotypes, Star. Who’s been teaching you about seekers?” I thought it better not to answer.</p><p>The transport door slid open and I accepted Thundercracker’s servo as I stepped over the balcony railing.</p><p>“Okay, you’re right,” Thundercracker admitted behind me. “We <em> don’t </em> do anything these days. Let’s go to that movie tonight.”</p><p>I grinned, settling into my seat, already reaching for the bottle of Engex waiting in the armrest. “That’s more like it.”</p><p>“We miss you, Star. We’re going out more often, okay? From now on and forever.”</p><p>The diamond seal of the bottle popped into my palm. I threw it to Thundercracker and shut the door. I was already thinking of where I would take them. What I would show them.</p><p>The transport thrust upwards, closing the distance between Vos and one of Cybertron’s many space bridges.</p><p>“What’s on the agenda?” I asked as I began pouring a glass for myself and the pilot.</p><p>The intercom sizzled as it spoke. “Not sure, Sir. They didn’t give me a schedule for today.”</p><p>My lips pursed in irritation. “Odd.” I held my glass tightly as the transport passed through the portal, shaking as it emerged in Crystal City. I shut the windows and tried to forget where I was. I still hadn’t fully recovered from my days as a senator’s armcandy.</p><p>My forearm beeped. I flipped open the communicator module to find a message from Thundercracker.</p><p>= no movie tonight, i guess =</p><p>I grimaced.</p><p>= Why not? =</p><p>= ask the news =</p><p>My optics scanned the words repeatedly, confused. “Turn the news on, please,” I murmured to the pilot.</p><p>A small screen descended from the ceiling almost immediately. The television switched on and I was greeted by a Cybertron Emergency Broadcast, led by a finely polished Crystal City news anchor.</p><p>“--body was found this morning, reportedly hanging from the Interstate Bridge, strung by his pedes. According to Iacon enforcers, a <em> decepticon </em> insignia was found painted on the back of Senator Sherma’s body, which has led investigators to believe that this assassination has been <em> politically motivated </em>.”</p><p>Suddenly, the transport felt <em> very </em>small.</p><p>“What <em> happened </em>?” I stammered desperately, turning up the volume to its maximum setting.</p><p>“It’s a real shame,” the pilot replied through the intercom. “They found him this morning, that poor Senator Sherma. Slagging <em> decepticons </em>.”</p><p>I licked my lips nervously, glancing around, as if I were being recorded. I reached for my communicator module, hesitating before typing with shaking digits, my body trembling with adrenaline.</p><p>= was it you? =</p><p>Megatron’s reply was almost instantaneous.</p><p>= No. =</p><p>= who ? =</p><p>= I don’t know. Soundwave is looking into it. =</p><p>Soundwave. I’d heard Megatron mention the name quite a few times, but I had yet to meet them. Lately, I had been feeling as though Megatron were keeping me a bit of a secret. All the better, I supposed. We were being careful. We didn’t want Cybertron knowing they had <em> another </em> decepticon in the senate, did we?</p><p>Still, wasn’t Megatron… proud of me?</p><p>= I want to help. =</p><p>An even faster response.</p><p>= No. =</p><p>I snarled gently, but I didn’t reply. I actually <em> wanted </em> to be with my trine tonight, and if I upset Megatron too strongly, I would be summoned. I was running out of excuses for the paint transfers on my cheeks that I had begun bringing home.</p><p>By the time we settled at the steps of the Capitol, crowds of terrified citizens and hungry news anchors surrounded the building. The pilot of my transport had me wait until security arrived.</p><p>Cameras and microphones were thrust in my face before the transport door could even open.</p><p>“-arscream, any comments on Senator Sherma?”</p><p>“-can you tell us about his assassination?”</p><p>“Is it true that the assassin was decepticon?”</p><p>I forced myself to smile, though my pedes were shaking. Megatron might not have been the one who order his assassination, but the death of Senator Sherma had just kickstarted a tsunami that I wasn’t quite sure we could handle. Were the decepticons <em> really </em> prepared to take on the senate?</p><p>Security walked on either side of me, shoving reporters and fans alike out of our way. I looked up, watching helicopters and shuttles hover over the Capitol. Everyone was confused. <em> I </em> was confused. We <em> all </em>wanted answers. I had to help.</p><p>I quickly spun on my thrusters, much to the annoyance of my security. I rose my servos, picking a random reporter to come forward. The crowd began to simmer.</p><p>“I know you are confused,” I spoke softly, calmly, as if I were the lighthouse in the storm. “I know you are frightened. Senator Sherma’s death comes as a surprise to <em> all </em> of us. Trust your senate, trust <em> me </em> , when I say that we will <em> find </em> the killer. For now, remain vigilant. Exercise caution in uncharted territory. Most of all, remember that we are <em> all </em> Cybertronian.”</p><p>I returned the microphone. The crowd cheered and booed. They reached out to touch my servo. I returned to my security, ignoring their unappreciative glares. As we climbed the stairs of the Capitol, I noticed Senator Proteus waiting for us. Waiting for me.</p><p>“Eloquently said, as always,” the senator observed warmly. I allowed Senator Proteus to touch palms, a formal Cybertronian greeting I’d grown quite accustomed to. “Though, only <em> senators </em>are allowed to speak for the senate. You might get in trouble with Sentinel for that.”</p><p>My crimson optics rolled passively. “From what I saw down there, they can’t get an answer from <em> anyone </em>.”</p><p>Senator Proteus wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his servo much too low on my arm to put me at ease. He dismissed my security and led me across the lobby.</p><p>“Waiting for an official answer won’t <em> kill </em> them, y’know,” he said, waving his other servo lazily in the air.</p><p>I frowned, looking away. “They're our <em> citizens </em> , <em> y’know </em>. They deserve to know what’s going on.”</p><p>Senator Proteus ignored my rebuttal. “Just as fierce as the day I met you, Starscream. It becomes you.”</p><p>I smirked, attempting to pull from his grip. I gasped as I was yanked close enough to be pressed against his cheek. My seeker biology summoned a deep growl from my vocalizer.</p><p>“You might want to keep an <em> optic </em> on it, though.” The engine beneath his chassi was hot enough to scald.</p><p>Before I could reply, Senator Proteus laughed warmly and released me. Speechless, I watched him walk away.</p><p>“Stay in the Capitol today,” he ordered, his voice suddenly casual and calm, as if nothing had happened, “and stay inside. From what I hear, you’re behind on assignments.”</p><p>My mouth opened and closed breathlessly. I had <em> never </em> seen the Senator so… </p><p>Alive.</p><p> </p><p>The day passed in a blur. Time moved quickly, yet simultaneously slow enough to torture. I couldn’t get anything done. Under my desk, my legs were trembling. The stylus shook in my servo as I signed letters. This wasn’t like Senator Ratbat’s exile. This was… This was <em> much more </em> . And I wanted <em> in </em>.</p><p>Senator Proteus returned at sundown to walk me out. After a day’s work, he had returned to the same grumpy old mech I once knew. Yet as I took flight from the steps of the Capitol, I couldn’t get away quickly enough.</p><p>As soon as I landed on the balcony of my apartment, I knew something was wrong.</p><p>“Guys?” I stepped inside, my digits wandering aimlessly for the light switch.</p><p>“In here,” a voice called from the habsuite. Skywarp.</p><p>I hated how defiled my spark felt in my chest. I stumbled in the dark across our living room, a lamp falling behind me when I bumped it. The door to the habsuite slid open to reveal a sobbing Thundercracker embraced by a frozen Skywarp sitting on the berth. Their optics were locked on the television on the opposing wall, the second emergency broadcast of the day.</p><p>I didn’t care what the news had to say. I felt myself falling beside Thundercracker, my lips pressing repeatedly against his face and arms wrapping around my trine.</p><p>“What happened?” I whispered to Skywarp.</p><p>“Senator Momus,” Thundercracker whimpered between us. “He’s <em> dead </em>.”</p><p>I fumbled for the remote before accepting it from Skywarp. I turned up the volume and we watched in horror as an irate Prowl struggled to push a camera away from Senator Momus’s mangled corpse.</p><p>“Found in Translucentica Heights, eyewitnesses say the body of Senator Momus was <em> ejected </em> from a skyscraper window, landing on the streets of Iacon without a helm-”</p><p>I silenced the television before Thundercracker’s cries grew any louder.</p><p>“I can’t <em> believe </em> this,” he bawled into Skywarp’s cockpit. “Why would the Decepticons <em> do </em>this? Why did they have to use violence?”</p><p>Skywarp and I met optics over our mate’s helm, sharing a similar yet unspoken look. “We don’t know if it was a decepticon,” I whispered.</p><p>Thundercracker’s digit rose to the screen, pointing to Senator Momus’s body being haphazardly carried into the back of a medical transport. “Look. They painted the sign on his body.” As I watched, I couldn’t help but notice how poorly drawn the insignia was. If you were going to murder a <em> senator </em> , wouldn’t you at least want to make sure you were drawing the insignia <em> correctly </em>?</p><p>Skywarp reached for the remote and cut power to the television. “Let’s go to recharge,” he purred tenderly into Thundercracker’s audial, swaying the two of us in his arms. “We won’t know any more details tonight. They need to run an autopsy, anyway.”</p><p>Fluid from Thundercracker’s optics ran down my arm as I held him. As we sat swaying silently in the dark, I began to wonder how he would react to my reveal as a decepticon.</p><p>I began to wonder if I would ever tell him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember to follow my twitter @gupybot for updates! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Exposure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream discovers the origin of Megatron's gift. Unfortunately, it comes with a price.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've never enjoyed writing a chapter as much as I have writing this one. During his time hidden in the Academy, I thought the songs "Will She Come Back" by Cliff Martinez and "Utai IV: Reawakening" by Kenji Kawai fit perfectly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Before the sun had even risen, Senator Proteus introduced the “Decepticon Registration Act”. With a smiling face and glimmering teeth, the senator whose life I once saved promised to recognize the decepticon cause as a legitimate party if ten thousand decepticons registered with their real names. Of course, the news went wild. In a little under two solar cycles, all of Cybertron knew what was coming. Even if we didn’t know what to call it. The decepticons weren’t going to disappear. And we were </span>
  <em>
    <span>growing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I spent the entire morning trying to reach Megatron. I couldn’t get anything done. I couldn’t even think. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know what he thought. My answer came in the form of a ten second video posted to an underground Cybertronian forum. Megatron’s statement. The video spread like wildfire. The message was clear:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>NOT </span>
  </em>
  <span>register.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, not everyone listened. By sundown, two hundred decepticons had registered. Damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>fools</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By registering our names to the senate, we tell the world that our </span>
  <em>
    <span>validity</span>
  </em>
  <span> is dictated by our government,” a disgruntled mech hissed on the evening news. “We exist on our </span>
  <em>
    <span>own </span>
  </em>
  <span>accord. Cybertron no longer has a need for a senate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but feel inspired. Knowing I had infiltrated the senate without being detected as a decepticon gave me a rush that only a mech like Megatron could give. There was no one like him. I’m ashamed to say I worshiped him. I may as well have had a shrine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I would soon learn that the drug-like stupor of Megatron’s worship comes with a price. A price that I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> too young to handle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re coming home </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> after work, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded into Thundercracker’s neck, clinging to his body like an earthling monkey. Megatron hadn’t called for me in over a deca-cycle. He hadn’t even sent a text. And with Senator Proteus’s new curfew, I couldn’t leave my apartment after work without risking arrest. For my trinemates, it was their own personal utopia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” I purred into the cables of his neck. “Right after work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker’s arms squeezed around my waist. He hadn’t been this happy, this </span>
  <em>
    <span>clingy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, since we first bonded. I suppose this would have been my life, if not for Megatron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside us, the private transport let out a quick beep. I was already running late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp came out and leaned against the sliding glass doors of the balcony. “You’d better get going, Star. Sooner you leave, sooner we get you </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I groaned, though I knew he was right. As much as I loved being an undercover Decepticon, I was really getting used to my company being desired by my trine. It felt good to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I slid from Thundercracker’s grasp, taking his servo as he fulfilled his daily routine of helping me into the private transport.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slid shut as I sat down, though I took a moment to look out the window to my waving trinemates. It was nice knowing that they waited all day for my return. For once, I could come home without feeling guilty. As much as I missed Megatron, I was admittedly enjoying the break from our affair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the schedule for today?” I asked the intercom as I stretched out across the velvet seats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much, Sir. Another day in the office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, satisfied with the answer. I was looking forward to a day of slacking off and watching the news under my desk. My optics slid shut and I let myself doze off for the morning commute. The sooner I zoned out, the sooner I’d be home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I must have drifted off, because when I awoke, the cockpit door was open and the pilot was calling for security.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” I winced as I sat up, my knee locked in an awkward position. “What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not sure, Sir,” the pilot murmured absentmindedly, typing furiously into his communicator module. “Reporters are crowding the transport. I’m trying to figure out why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t bother. I know why they’re here.” I stood up, checking my reflection in the heavily tinted windows to make myself presentable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced back, a sly grin on my face. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>famous</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slid open before security could arrive. Reporters reached out for me, thrusting their microphones through the crowd. As flattered as I was, I was caught off guard. I was more than familiar with the daily interview attempts as I climbed the steps to the Capitol, but they didn’t want just anyone. They wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, any comment on the rumors?” Someone cried from the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blissfully unaware, I cocked my helm and placed a cobalt servo on my hip. “What rumors?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you’re a decepticon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My fuel lines tightened in my chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” I chuckled, “what was that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A more confident reporter thrust her way through the crowd, shoving cameras aside until she could reach me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you recall your latest photoshoot with Spectra Polish?” she asked, her voice stern and strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded. “The anniversary of my debut. Yes, I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reporter paused, as if I had been expected to know something. “Do you have any comment regarding that photoshoot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked, crossing my arms. “It’s always a pleasure to work with Spectra Polish. They have the best polish on Cybertron. What does </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> have to do with the news?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has everything to do with the news when you’re wearing a dead senator’s ring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When a seeker is threatened, our frame constricts ever so slightly to protect the cables and wires under our plating. Six million years later, I can still feel the way my chest tightened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I smiled nervously, “but what are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking </span>
  </em>
  <span>about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reporter’s jaw tightened, irritated that I wasn’t connecting the dots. She pointed over my shoulder, gesturing to somewhere behind me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed as I spun. “I think you have me mistaken with someone el-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A billboard glistened behind us, bolted to the side of a Crystal City skyscraper. I lay on my stomach, the entire right side of my body covered by a shadow. My legs crossed in the air, my pedes pointed to the sky. My devilishly handsome smirk. And on my left servo, a silver ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t take my optics off it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, would you mind telling us where you got that ring?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I licked my lips slowly before turning back to face what now felt like </span>
  <em>
    <span>many </span>
  </em>
  <span>cameras. “It was a gift,” I murmured quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, I had forgotten every name of every mech I’d ever known. “A friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reporter huffed, perhaps amused by the horrified look in my optic. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span> friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had to think. I had to think fast. “A classmate from the Academy. I’ve known her my whole life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did she tell you where she </span>
  <em>
    <span>got </span>
  </em>
  <span>that ring?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm, what now felt like a foreign body. “Somewhere in Iacon, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reporter smirked. She knew she had me cornered. “Are you aware that a ring </span>
  <em>
    <span>identical</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the one pictured in your photoshoot with Spectra Polish was reportedly worn by Senator Decimus?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you aware that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Megatron</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the last known mech to have contact with Senator Decimus before his assassination?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt my cheeks burning, but I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>far </span>
  </em>
  <span>from happy. “I heard something like that on the news. But I don’t know what that has to do with me. I told you, this ring was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gift</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reporter grinned. She went in for the kill. “Are you aware that you’re wearing the ring </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>During the war, I could come to know the feeling of having your limbs crushed and ripped from your body. Standing there, under the steps of the Capitol, my servo was being crushed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My friend knew I adored politics,” I murmured, taking a step back. “She must have had it made in Senator Decimus’s honor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would she know what it looked like?” The reporter stopped forward, raising the microphone to my lips. “Senator Decimus bought that ring only two solar cycles before his death. He never got the chance to wear it in public.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When a seeker is cornered, we lash out. Yet I was too disconnected from my body to find the will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a decepticon,” I breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t say you were,” the reporter replied. “We just want to know where you got that ring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could have sworn that every optic in Crystal City bore into my spark in that moment. Surely, she was mistaken. Megatron wouldn’t do this to me. He wouldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, where are you going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blinked. My thrusters had engaged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need… I need to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reporter stepped forward, as if to grab me. I flinched, my wings banging back against the private transport. “Starscream, do you understand what impression you’re giving by leaving?”</span>
</p><p><span>“You’re out of your </span><em><span>mind</span></em><span>,” I hissed, slapping her servo away from me. “I’m not wearing a </span><em><span>dead</span></em> <em><span>senator’s </span></em><span>ring! Why don’t you </span><em><span>leeches</span></em><span> do your research before accusing an </span><em><span>innocent </span></em><span>mech of being a decepticon?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Before anyone could respond, a booming, livid voice rang from above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>STARSCREAM, DON’T YOU </b>
  <b>
    <em>DARE </em>
  </b>
  <b>LEAVE!</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced up, my tanks churning at the sight of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sentinel Prime descending the steps of the Capitol. At his heels, a fuming Prowl and perhaps every enforcer in Crystal City. They had been waiting. They had </span>
  <em>
    <span>known</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My thrusters engaged to full and the crowd leapt back. Within a moment’s notice, I had blasted away. The rising sun blinded me as I climbed the skyscrapers of Crystal City.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Below me, Sentinel ordered a pursuit. If there were any gaps in my plating, they were immediately covered by the tightening of my frame. They couldn’t catch me. They had no seekers. An entire story of window panes beside me shattered as I broke the speed of sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time the enforcers took off from the Capitol, I was passing through the space bridge to Vos.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t go to Megatron. In one morning, I had become one of Cybertron’s most wanted suspects. I could already imagine my trinemate’s horror. It wouldn’t be long before the interview was televised. As I glided through the clouds of Vos, raindrops streaking across my pearl white wings, I considered falling to the tower of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Vos Daily. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They’d give me a chance to explain myself, wouldn’t they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what would I even say?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What would I say to Thundercracker?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My career. My fame. My reputation. I could feel my life melting. I was young, but I understood what had just happened. There was no way I could explain myself. With Senator Proteus’s registration act, there was no way </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> would believe in a coincidence. Cybertron was too unstable. The trust I once held had disintegrated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doors to the dormitories fell as I barreled through them. Glass was sent flying through the halls, the carpet torn as I let myself crash. No one was here to notice. The clampdown had suspended all schooling. My vents welcomed the familiar odor of the Academy. Perhaps the first smell I’d ever known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I transformed slowly, my digits reaching out to pick at the fibers of the runner I lay on. Jetfire would bring me to this rug to play. I could hear the chest empty above me, toys bouncing and rolling down the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What would he say now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dust kicked up as I ran my digits through the rug, pressing down to push myself up. I stood, swaying as my body struggled to recalibrate from my landing. I had walked down the same hall on the way to my graduation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched my pedes as I walked. Habsuite A34. Someone had locked it. Likely out of respect for the dead. I raised my leg just before engaging my thruster and melting the handle. The door slid open with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hiss</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jetfire’s datapads lay perfectly stacked on his desk. Boxes from his faculty suite had been stacked in the corner. The fresh air of my break in disturbed dust over four hundred years old. I curled over as the coughing fit began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cleaned as far as my energy allowed me. As it turns out, having your life destroyed in one morning can take a real toll on the body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thunder rolled through the Academy as I climbed into his berth. I stuffed my nose into the pillow and inhaled sharply, but his smell had faded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would never be the real thing, but the pillows stuffed behind my back and the indent of Jetfire’s massive frame were enough to bring back a few cherished memories as I drifted into recharge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, what do you think? I find it hard to believe that this comes as a surprise to anyone. The senate fails to resolve the gladiatorial fighting arena of Kaon for three hundred years, yet suddenly, here comes this young, hotshot </span>
  <em>
    <span>chemist</span>
  </em>
  <span> and ends it all? I mean, we’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> how Megatron responds to outsiders in his arena. We’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> what happens to the opposition. I mean, think of the enforcers who’ve tried to stop him. Has any enforcer faced Megatron and come back alive? What makes Starscream so special?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed into Jetfire’s pillow, tightening my grip as I mushed my face into the faded silk. My communicator rang for what must have been the three hundredth time that night. I deleted the message without a second thought. Just about everyone I’d known thus far had been trying to reach me. Thundercracker and Skywarp had been ringing all night. Megatron, most of all. The tank dropping dread of his ringtone had worn off. Let him be angry, I thought. He had betrayed me. Exposed me as a decepticon without my notice or my consent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another text message. It was deleted as I turned up the volume on Jetfire’s television.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you what makes him special,” the anchor sitting across his colleague grumbled. “He’s belonged to Megatron for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>while</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If you ask me, this was Megatron’s plan all along. Pick out a gorgeous, </span>
  <em>
    <span>impressionable</span>
  </em>
  <span> young mech, hypnotize him with grand promises, make him your puppet. Give him a story, make him look like the hero, and infiltrate the government. And as we’re learning from the witnesses coming forward, Starscream’s been under Megatron’s spell for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> time. I mean, just listen to this account from a server living in Kaon: ‘Whenever he came to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sudi Celeritas</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Megatron always had a private suite booked in someone else’s name. He never booked under his own name. Usually, his guests got rowdy. They were usually miners, trade workers. We had to stay after hours to clean up the messes they made. However, when he brought Starscream, I’d never seen such high manners. Seriously, it was like Megatron had a twin, and when I served them, I swear I saw fire in his optics. I’m telling you, they weren’t just friends. Starscream was </span>
  <em>
    <span>crazy </span>
  </em>
  <span>about him. You should have seen the way they </span>
  <em>
    <span>looked </span>
  </em>
  <span>at eachother’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Traitor!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I screeched, throwing the pillow out from under me so hard that something in my elbow popped. It fell meekly against the screen and slid to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fluid burned my cheeks for the seventh time that evening. Cybertron knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They knew about my visits to the arena. They knew about my dinners with Megatron. They knew what we </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which meant Thundercracker and Skywarp knew, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My vents choked as I inhaled sharply through the tears. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Traitor</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I whimpered, digging so deeply into the pillow that feathers began pouring out. I wasn’t exactly sure who I was calling to. There wasn’t a single mech I wasn’t mad at. Everyone was mad at me. Thundercracker was mad at me. Skywarp was mad at me. My teachers were mad at me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Megatron</span>
  </em>
  <span> was mad at me. They were all so </span>
  <em>
    <span>disappointed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I just knew it. I had finally gained the most public exposure on Cybertron and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>top</span>
  </em>
  <span> question on everyone’s mind: Where </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>Starscream? I don’t think there’s a single enforcer on Cybertron who isn’t looking for him. This isn’t just any decepticon suspect. This is a decepticon suspect in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>senate</span>
  </em>
  <span>. For that matter, we still haven’t found Senator Ratbat. Do you think Starscream went to the same place as he did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t. Senator Ratbat was </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. According to eyewitness reports, he wanted revenge for his exposal. Starscream, on the other hand, didn’t seem angry at anyone except the reporter who interviewed him this morning. If you ask me, Megatron killed Senator Ratbat. I bet you fifty kuid he went to get his revenge and Megatron killed him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, we have </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea where he is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. According to his trinemates, Thundercracker and Skywarp of Vos, they hadn’t seen him. They had sent him off to work at the Capitol, and that was it. They even let Vosnian enforcers check their residence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grit my teeth as footage of my apartment flashed on screen, enforcers stomping through my living room and barging into our habsuite. Just out of view, I could hear Thundercracker crying, begging, </span>
  <em>
    <span>insisting</span>
  </em>
  <span> that they didn’t know where I was. They had avoided interrogation, but only </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think his adolescence could have led to this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, according to what we’ve collected from his trine, Starscream was raised by a mech named Jetfire, a brilliant scientist who went missing on an expedition. Four hundred years later, and he still hasn’t been found. Do you think that trauma may have led a vulnerable mech to Megatro-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>TRAITOR!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I wailed, this time throwing a long forgotten candle to the television screen. The news anchors were finally silenced as the candle lodged itself through their faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sniffling, I slid from the berth, settling on the floor wrapped in Jetfire’s tattered blankets. Wrapping the blankets around my shoulders, I pulled myself to my pedes and trudged out of the habsuite. There was nothing left here. Jetfire had been dead for years, but now, he had truly left. Perhaps my betrayal had driven away his spirit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t bring myself to leave the Academy. I knew as long as I stayed, no one would find me. The Academy was too big. They couldn’t possibly search every room. As long as Senator Proteus’s clampdown remained in effect, I was safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five solar cycles melted away as slowly as the ice that likely held Jetfire’s mangled body. I couldn’t get the image out of my processor. The news insisted on telling my life story </span>
  <em>
    <span>over </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>over</span>
  </em>
  <span>, yet I didn’t have the strength to look away. I relieved his death more times in those five solar cycles than I had in centuries. They swore my upbringing collected the dots, and maybe they were right. A seeker, one of Cybertron’s least respected races, brought up by a mech torn from me at too young an age, forced into adulthood without a family. Everyone I’d known had something to say, yet no one came forward. They all came in the form of anonymous tips. Everyone knew that my actions had marked them as accomplices. Anyone who’d known me was now a suspected decepticon. Even Thundercracker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s ringtone came as rapidly as my breathing. Eventually, I had to rip out the speaker of my communicator module. I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious </span>
  </em>
  <span>with him. He had betrayed me. I wanted nothing to do with him. I wasn’t about to leave the decepticon cause. I still wanted to fight. I still wanted to help my people. I could still see seekers as the dominant form. Yet now I wished I could do it without him. If he had just </span>
  <em>
    <span>warned</span>
  </em>
  <span> me… I wasn’t ready to be an outspoken Decepticon. Not yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I no longer had a choice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the sixth solar cycle, I was finally found.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had dug through boxes in my old hab suite, unsure of what I was looking for, finding ways to pass the time. Finally, I had found several datapads from my work as a chemist, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> chemist, not a scientist blindly following Megatron’s orders. I had brought them to the hall that had once shown me the magic of science, clearing the board and running through old formulas that had never made sense to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There, standing on the stage, entranced by my work, datapads strewn around my pedes, I was finally discovered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chemistry? How am I not surprised?” a warm voice chuckled behind me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gasped, throwing the datapad in my servo to the source of the voice. It was a lackluster throw, landing several feet away from Professor Cloudblade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite a way to welcome an old friend, hm?” He mumbled, adjusting the cane in his servo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I frowned, looking away. “Are you alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no interest in getting you arrested, little one,” my professor retorted as he climbed the steps to the stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here, then?” I grumbled. “It’s after curfew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was ignored. “I remember the night Jetfire brought you to me. It was raining hard, just like this. You were soaked to the spark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My pedes stepped away from the professor. I was still weary that enforcers would smash through the windows any second now. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He had a scratch on his cheek. That was the first thing I noticed. He said you scratched him, right when he tried to pick you up. He almost dropped you</span>
  <em>
    <span>!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My jaw clenched. “I didn’t mean to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloudblade hummed happily. “Oh, I know. He knew too. You were only five or so kilks old, and you had just been abandoned. We could see the pain in your optics. Even kilks old, you knew you had been betrayed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I get it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He asked if we could keep you. I said no, as if I had a choice! I could already see how much he loved you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My vocalizer snarled deeply. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>get </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. Can you stop, now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jetfire was only one or two stellar cycles older than you. He had </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> learned to fly, yet here he was, carrying in a sparkling like a starstruck carrier. You kept </span>
  <em>
    <span>screaming</span>
  </em>
  <span>, we could barely hear each other! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I think we knew your name almost instantly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hissed, throwing the stylus in my servo. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I get it!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m sorry I was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>annoying </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you felt the need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>name</span>
  </em>
  <span> me so!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his helm, though I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “We didn’t name you Starscream because you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>annoying</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We named you Starscream because you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>healthy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sick sparklings don’t scream. You were beautiful, Starscream. You were fighting for freedom before you even knew what you were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>ENOUGH</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” I wailed, covering my mouth as quickly as it had come out. My professor waited patiently as I broke down, falling to my knees and hugging my core.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If this is how you want to fight,” Professor Cloudblade whispered, “then I support your wishes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I reached up, wiping fluid from my optics. I hadn’t expected that. Like a chain had been released, I found the will to look up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your optics,” I breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, these.” The professor touched his optics gingerly. “Just a little cosmetic change. It was an easy operation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What were once a brilliant red now bore a dull blue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What… Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The most intelligent chemist in all of Vosnian history leaned tenderly on his cane. “Red optics have become almost entirely synonymous with Decepticons. I have no desire to be a part of this war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked down, shaking my helm. “But this isn’t a war, professor. You don’t have to be a part of anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, I’ve been alive for well over seven million years,” Cloudblade sighed, his optics closing. “I know how to recognize the signs. This… </span>
  <em>
    <span>disturbance</span>
  </em>
  <span>… will become a war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wanted to correct him, to tell him that Megatron had a plan, that all would be resolved. Yet, as I opened my mouth to speak, I began to wonder if I really believed that myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dean has decided to shut down the Academy,” the professor admitted dejectedly. “The students have been sent home. I came to make sure the place was empty before I locked up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My mouth hung agape as I stood. “Surely, that’s excessive! There’s no need to shut down the academ-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream!” Cloudblade snapped, cutting me off. “You have no idea what’s coming. We need to keep our students safe, and having the future of Vos in one building will only make them a target.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My fists clenched at my sides. For the first time in my life, I felt genuine fear of the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I guess I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloudblade exhaled, his breath unstable. I’d never noticed how old he was getting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream,” he murmured, his voice not much higher than a whisper, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>you a Decepticon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics fluttered shut as I inhaled slowly. It took me a moment to respond, to really make sure  I was ready to answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Expecting anger, expecting hurt, I wasn’t expecting Professor Cloudblade to nod and smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always knew you would do great things,” he said. “I only hope you keep your spark safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked. “I’m not a soldier, professor. Don’t worry about my safety.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My professor didn’t reciprocate the smile. “I didn’t mean the physical sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My smirk faded. “I know what I’m doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We stood across from each other in silence, master and pupil, guardian and sparkling. I wish I had known that this would be the last time I saw Professor Cloudblade alive. I would have said so much more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Cloudblade’s cockpit opened and he began fumbling inside. Finally, he pulled out a golden datapad not much bigger than my servo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dean told me that if I saw you here today,” he said, “that I should give you this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I accepted the datapad, confused by the engravings etched on its surface. Ancient Cybertronian. Cryptic letters ticked across the screen when I activated its power, yet I only recognized my name as it scrolled by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this?” I murmured, spinning it slowly in my grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dean feels that you were sent to our Academy on Solus Prime’s will. She believes it was a god’s plan to let us raise you. She is fleeing Cybertron. And she wishes to pass the Academy down to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blinked, looking up. “Pass it down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The professor nodded. “As of this moment, you are the owner of the Vos Academy of Science.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gulped, my throat suddenly quite dry. I ran my claws down the datapad, passing over its engravings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You once said you would never let anything happen to the Academy,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my cockpit, placing the datapad inside as gently as a newborn. “I would never.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloudblade nodded. “I know. Jetfire raised you well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My spark burned as I watched my professor turn back. He groaned silently as he descended the steps of the stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you leaving, too?” I asked solemnly. “Cybertron?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elder seeker shook his helm. “I would never abandon my home. I was born in Vos and I’ll die in Vos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smiled, unaware of the weight of his words. “Sounds like Cloudblade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Closing up a school takes quite a long time,” the professor grumbled, fumbling with key cards strung to his hip. “I best be going now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, though my mind was elsewhere. I had something to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Professor Cloudblade?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think… Do you think Jetfire would be mad at me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fumbling stopped. “No, I don’t think so. He knew he would never be able to control you, Starscream. But I think…” The professor’s voice had faded away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I clutched my servos over my cockpit. “You think what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloudblade looked back at me, and our optics met for the last time. “He would want you to stay away from that Megatron fellow. As far as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched my professor open the grand doors of his classroom, and even then, I knew he would never return. “Oh, and Starscream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go home. You couldn’t possibly fathom how precious a family is until they’re gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door shut behind him. I looked down at my datapads. I couldn’t go home. Not yet. But perhaps it was time to say goodbye to the Academy.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember to follow my twitter @gupybot for updates! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Emergence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream publicly reveals himself to be a decepticon, though not everyone is pleased with his return. Arriving in Kaon, he faces his first assassination attempt.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>LET THE ROBOTS SMOKE I SAY</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As I fell from the balcony of my childhood dormitories, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. In less than a thousand years, I had grown from a clueless sparkling, desperate to see the world, to a banished delegate preparing to emerge as a Decepticon. I had no idea just how much growing I still had left to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vos was beautiful that morning. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> beautiful, but there was something </span>
  <em>
    <span>special</span>
  </em>
  <span> about that sunrise. Perhaps it was the way the blinding light stripped my people of color, leaving us in a collective ethereal peach. Perhaps it was the way it flawlessly captured the sense of a new beginning. Either way, I’ll never forget the sense of pride I felt in my spark as I shot through the clouds towards Crystal City.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t even give her the chance to fight. As I swooped down into the Capitol, she must have heard me coming, that wretched reporter, the one who’d found </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasure </span>
  </em>
  <span>in her exposure of my alliance with Megatron. I snatched the microphone right out of her servo. She swore sharply, and the crowd watched in awe as I glided to the top of the Capitol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I touched down on the lightning rod of the Capitol as gracefully as a feather, perching on one pede and clutching the copper pole with my left servo. I hung to my right, smiling down at Crystal City as their collective helms turned to face me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cleared my vocalizer, lifting the microphone to my polished lips. “I’d like this to be live, if you don’t mind,” I smirked, my voice smooth as oil. “And I’d like a camera up here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They weren’t going to miss out on an opportunity like this. Within seconds, a camera drone began to ascend the Capitol. It leveled with my face, and I knew it was time.</span>
</p><p><span>“If you didn’t know my name before, I’m </span><em><span>sure</span></em><span> you’ve heard all about me in the last six solar cycles. If for some reason you </span><em><span>still </span></em><span>don’t know my face, my name is </span><em><span>Starscream</span></em> <em><span>of Vos</span></em><span>, a name I earned through my </span><em><span>warrior </span></em><span>spirit some six hundred years ago, on the day I emerged.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Around me, advertisements were wiped from billboards across Crystal City, replaced by the live feed of what would become my most famous speech.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, I never understood why Solus Prime gave me that warrior spirit. Not until the day I met </span>
  <em>
    <span>Megatron of Kaon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>senate</span>
  </em>
  <span>, your high caste, your </span>
  <em>
    <span>ignorant</span>
  </em>
  <span>…  might know him as </span>
  <em>
    <span>D-16</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Below, my peripheral vision caught the familiar hues of orange, plum, royal blue, and red. The senate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I wanted them to see this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron is not the reason why I come to you today. I come to you today, tomorrow, and for </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span> day it takes to pave a </span>
  <em>
    <span>new path</span>
  </em>
  <span> for Cybertron. I come to you for my </span>
  <em>
    <span>seekers</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Vos</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for every mech with wings who has felt the agony of discrimination and</span>
  <em>
    <span> disrespect</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the day you gain your respect. This is the day you gain your freedom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allow me to tell you a story. Some three hundred sixty years ago, I accompanied Senator Proteus to a race on Velocitron. I arrived on Velocitron not as a bodyguard, but as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lure</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That night, I would serve as </span>
  <em>
    <span>candy</span>
  </em>
  <span> for Sentinel Prime. Senator Proteus used me as bait to hypnotise the mind of Sentinel, in an attempt to sway the senate in his favor. After all, Sentinel has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fetish</span>
  </em>
  <span> for seekers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar voice raged below me. I didn’t have much time left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would soon learn that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was not the victim. Cybertron, do you know what a </span>
  <em>
    <span>midnight conjux </span>
  </em>
  <span>is? Allow me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>explain</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A midnight conjux is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeker </span>
  </em>
  <span>forced to sell their company, their dignity, their </span>
  <em>
    <span>body</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That night, sitting between your senate like </span>
  <em>
    <span>prey</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I met my first midnight conjux. Nameless and beautiful, Solus Prime had given her rose wings and a will to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As it turns out, there are over </span>
  <em>
    <span>four hundred thousand</span>
  </em>
  <span> midnight conjux living on Cybertron, with at </span>
  <em>
    <span>least</span>
  </em>
  <span> three thousand more scattered across the galaxy. Your senate tells you that seekers have been freed, that the golden age gave us our freedom, yet I implore you: What kind of Cybertronian would call </span>
  <em>
    <span>forced prostitution </span>
  </em>
  <span>freedom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grinned. “Don’t believe me? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ask your senate</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even better, ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>high caste restaurant worker this side of the globe. They’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to tell you about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>trembling </span>
  </em>
  <span>seekers your senate drags beside them, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shaking</span>
  </em>
  <span> on their thrusters and forcing their aching jaws to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might not be a midnight conjux, yet every </span>
  <em>
    <span>day </span>
  </em>
  <span>I am faced with objectification and </span>
  <em>
    <span>degradation</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even today, serving </span>
  <em>
    <span>alongside </span>
  </em>
  <span>your senate, I find myself covering myself as I pass under their </span>
  <em>
    <span>lustful</span>
  </em>
  <span> optics. I say </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around me, seekers and shuttles had begun to hover. No one had fired. No one dared. I was bringing to them knowledge they might have never known. In my spark, I felt the shared agony of our mistreatment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they had a voice. Before today, serving the senate, I had only been helping myself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Today</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I had finally become their leader.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Midnight conjux are raped and wasted until the day they </span>
  <em>
    <span>deactivate</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>familiar</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Let me give you a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hint</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Who do you think fuels your bodies? Who do you think powers your homes? Our power grid? Your senate? </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It is our </span>
  <em>
    <span>energon miners</span>
  </em>
  <span> who power Cybertron. Those who were born with the right to walk among us are exiled to our moons, forced to toil, watch their brothers die, until the day their spark extinguishes. How can we </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span> like this? How can we drink our high grade </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing </span>
  </em>
  <span>it is mixed with the rusting, </span>
  <em>
    <span>decaying </span>
  </em>
  <span>energon that runs through our miners’ bodies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prowl and his enforcers had begun to line up. Someone had brought out a hoverbike. I was running out of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Join me!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I hissed, my optics burning into the camera lens before me. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Decepticon </span>
  </em>
  <span>in your senate! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I am a Decepticon! Cybertron no longer has the choice to stand idly by while our citizens suffer under the hands of our government. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Join </span>
  </em>
  <span>us. Come to Kaon and become a Decepticon! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fight for our planet</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Seekers, come to Kaon and </span>
  <em>
    <span>melt the shackles!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several hoverbikes were climbing to the tip of the capitol. Around me, mechs were cheering. I had never heard such a beautiful noise, I hadn’t noticed how many citizens had gathered at the Capitol. They weren’t here for their senate. They weren’t here to see an arrest. They were here to see </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Every billboard in Crystal City, perhaps on Cybertron, now bore my face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron is no </span>
  <em>
    <span>tyrant</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I hissed. “He is your </span>
  <em>
    <span>deliverance</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Stand beside us and </span>
  <em>
    <span>free </span>
  </em>
  <span>our </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I threw the microphone into the camera. The drone flew back and tumbled away, sparks flying. Enforcers were coming. My knees bent just before kicking back and ejecting from the lightning rod. I transformed, yanking the flaps of my wings downward, falling to the crowd and pulling up just over their helms. The crowd cried in adoration. As much as I wanted to give them a show, I wasn’t about to be arrested. I climbed the skies, once again escaping enforcers with laughable ease.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the sun had set, I allowed myself to fall from the stars. I had spent the entire day among them, their brilliant fire cleansing my body of the past. I was ready to fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the atmosphere welcomed me home, I knew who to call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-Hello?” a stunned voice answered almost instantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hook,” I purred lovingly, “would you mind telling me where Megatron is expected tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The constructicon coughed nervously, clearly intimidated by my sudden return. “He’s here, I mean, in Kaon. We’re at </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clara Futura</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s welcoming some new recruits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you mind </span>
  <em>
    <span>asking</span>
  </em>
  <span> him if I could join the party?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Uhh</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” A pause. “He… He said yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, Hook,” I smirked, twirling as I oriented to Kaon. “I’ll see you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, it wasn’t soon. As soon as I reached Kaon, I shot straight to Megatron’s apartment. I had been missing for almost half a deca cycle. I couldn’t face Megatron without a proper shower and polish. With every inch of me slathered in Vosnian polish, I took off for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clara Futura</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hotel was deserted. Megatron had rented the entire building, or more likely, bought it. I touched down on the balcony of its great hall, much to the surprise of starstruck decepticons wanting some fresh air. The hotel was packed with just about every Decepticon on Cybertron, yet I saw Megatron almost instantly, deep in thought, rubbing his chin, as his intoxicated constructicons stood laughing beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mechs jumped aside as they recognized me. I ignored them as I cut through, the flame of the candles on chandeliers above us bouncing off my glimmering body. I wasn’t stupid. I knew I was quite the sight for sore eyes. Whatever those humans say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I always had a way of commanding a room. Megatron must have sensed me, for somewhere during my passage through the crowd, he looked up, his spell broken, and met my gaze. I smirked, foolishly thinking he was glad to see me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, I broke free from the crowd, stepping up to our leader and bowing slightly. “Megatron.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron put down the drink in his servo, unwilling to take his optics off me. “If you’ll excuse us.” The constructicons, now quite sober, murmured an “of course” and stepped aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I followed Megatron along the side of the ballroom, a skip in my step. As furious as I was at my forced exposure, I was happy to see him. I was a fool to have ever known him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We stepped into the hallway of the hotel, Megatron gently closing the door behind us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I spun in the hallway, my spark dancing on clouds. “Did you see the news today? I put on quite the show.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Absentmindedly adoring a bouquet of flowers on the coffee table beside us, I failed to notice the fury in his optics. I felt him walk up to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I clasped my servos behind my back as I turned to face him. “Just promise you’ll remember who to thank when mechs come crawling to Ka-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron slapped me so hard, my body was sent flying into the wall. It cracked as I slid to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I held my cheek, gasping for breath. I watched, dumbstruck, as energon slid down my arm and stained the carpet below me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… have been trying to reach you,” Megatron breathed, struggling to maintain his composure, “for </span>
  <em>
    <span>seven </span>
  </em>
  <span>solar cycles. I sent mechs to your apartment. I sent mechs to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Capitol. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Where… </span>
  <em>
    <span>were you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” His breath was ragged as he rubbed his knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I choked back a sob, fluid burning the cut in my cheek as it streamed down my face. “I… Why did you-?”</span>
</p><p><span>“Let me </span><em><span>remind </span></em><span>you how this works,” the gladiator growled deeply. “You don’t </span><em><span>get</span></em><span> to ignore me. When I call, you </span><em><span>answer</span></em><span>. When I </span><em><span>summon</span></em><span> you, you </span><em><span>come</span></em><span>. If you </span><em><span>ever</span></em><span> ignore me again, I’ll have you begging for your </span><em><span>life</span></em><span>. Do you </span><em><span>understand</span></em> <em><span>me?</span></em><span>”</span></p><p>
  <span>I was a sparkling again, clinging to Jetfire’s legs as they forced me to fly. I could still recall the smell of his blankets as I begged to sleep beside him, terrified of the dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Megatron barked above me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hoped Jetfire would forgive me for scratching him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I swallowed, nodding rapidly. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have to hit you,” Megatron grumbled, his anger melting, “if you didn’t make a fool of me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Never </span>
  </em>
  <span>again will you send me on a chase.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you wouldn’t,” I whimpered, my voice trembling. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gray servos reached down for me. I winced, shutting my optics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shuddered as Megatron pulled me to my pedes. I settled on trembling thrusters just before shoving my face into his broad breastplate, my wings lowering as I struggled to steady my breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s cracked, dented servos rubbed the strut of my back, holding me tightly. “Don’t let this happen again.” His lips brushed gently against the top of my helmet. I shook my head, energon from my cheek rubbing onto his Decepticon insignia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I ignored you,” I whimpered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was gentle now. “Where were you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Academy. My professor found me. He gave me the title to the school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” the gladiator huffed. “What will you do with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without breaking the embrace, I reached into my cockpit, pulling out the </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing I never should have sacrificed. “It belongs to the Decepticons,” I whispered, placing it into the palm of his servo. “Just… please don’t destroy it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron released me just before placing the datapad in his cargo hold. “I won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I should have killed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The energon miner looked down, wiping the energon from his insignia. “Go wash up,” he murmured, “and join me inside. You have several mechs to meet.” As he opened the ballroom door, several decepticons rushed to greet him, some trying to shove tablets up to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron,” one mech stammered, “the news is- You should see this!” The door slammed behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alone in the hallway, my wings slowly rose to their normal height. The adrenaline dissipating from my body left me shaking as I walked out onto the balcony. Kaon’s warm night air clashed so strongly with the chill of Vosnian skies. I looked to my left down the wrap around balcony, watching decepticons laugh garishly in the hotel ballroom, their faces muddled by the foggy trim of the glass doors. The contrast of our night’s experience depressed me, and I leaned over the balcony railing, as if to let the tears fall freely. For a while, all I could hear was the music of the ballroom, horns of mechs below, and the sharp inhales of my silent sobbing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’m sorry. I’ll… go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My helm snapped up, looking back to see a mech behind me, and for a split second, I could have sworn Jetfire had returned. Tall, broad wings sat mounted to a ludicrously tall shuttlebot, his gray plating almost blending his body into the night sky. The only way I could tell him apart from the hotel wall were the purple accents on his wings and helmet. I had to keep looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span> to find his red optics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” I sniffed, sloppily wiping my face. The cut on my cheek burned as I dragged tears into it. “You’re fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shuttle reached up, bringing a small glowing tube to his lips. His vents drew air before sapphire smoke slowly poured from his mouth. I’d seen a few mechs indulge in the substance, yet never up close. He must have seen me staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I only have one,” he laughed deeply. “You’ll have to share.” He stepped up to the balcony, taking another slow drag before offering it to me. I had to reach up to meet him, accepting the drug with unsure digits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he chuckled, “you have to hold it -index and middle- Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I adjusted my grip, looking up to him as I brought it up to my lips. He nodded, and I inhaled slowly. The crystals singed my throat and I held my cockpit as I fought the overwhelming urge to cough. The shuttle grinned as he reached down for another hit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember my first time with those things.” The mech turned his back to the railing, leaning back on his elbows, legs crossed. “I hated ‘em at first. Now they’re the only thing that really relaxes me. That, and getting blackout drunk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ha!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My servos trembled over my cockpit as the burning sensation passed. “Are you from Vos? You have the accent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mech nodded slowly. “Only lived there until I grew up. Had to get out of town when I pissed off too many enforcers. Heard about the pits an’ knew I had to see it. Kaon is a beacon for troublemakers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We sat in silence for a few kilks, passing the crystals between us, enjoying the music and the warm air. It felt good to have Vos nearby, to have wings nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s quite the cut you’ve got there,” he murmured. “I’d love to see the </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> mech.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned away, covering the wound with my servo. “It’s not that. I… tripped into a table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mech considered my answer, then shrugged. “Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hypothetically</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mech </span>
  </em>
  <span>did that to me, I’d rip out his optics. That’s what gladiators do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I frowned. “Well, I’m not a gladiator, like you. Isn’t it your </span>
  <em>
    <span>job</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get beat up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mech smirked, flicking burnt crystals to the floor. “The difference is that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>agreed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get my face beat to a pulp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frustration flared in my cheeks. “At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> had a fighting chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pause before his answer. “Funny, how easy it is these days to forget your ancestry. This planet is so obsessed with… All I’m sayin’ is… Don’t forget those pretty little claws your carrier gave you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> My optics fell, my digits flexing as I studied my claws. I looked up, and our optics met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Starscream,” I murmured, smiling timidly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron makes sure we know your face,” the shuttle grinned. “Astrotrain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics widened. “You’re a triple changer!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Astrotrain let out a barking laughter, crossing his arms. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, yeah, I guess I am. Why, you a fan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was now. Triple changers were a powerful ally to have. And excellent protection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” I purred, stepping forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrian’s unbridled pride began to falter. He flushed, laughing nervously. “I- I’ve been missing for a while,” he stammered. “I should get back inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I frowned, surprised by his sudden shyness. “So soon?” I offered the crystals up to him, but he shook his helm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finish it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could press him, Astrotrain was stepping through the doors to the ballroom, ducking down to fit through the archway. Much to my amusement, the glow of the chandeliers illuminated the color of his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrugged, turning back to the Kaon horizon. The crystal tube burned in my digits, and I studied the smoke as it billowed from my lips. When we reach such moments in our lives, moments that change who we are, and what we value, we usually fail to recognize them. The drug I felt myself growing accustomed to would become my fleeting pleasures through the war. I hadn’t the slightest idea how much stress I would come to bear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I also failed to recognize that I was about to face my second test as a decepticon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It came as a sudden blade pulling back against my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t blame him for getting so nervous. You really are quite beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My digits fell open. The crystals tumbled to the depths of Kaon below.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t scream if I were you. I don’t want to rush this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An arm wrapped around my waist. I grit my teeth, my lips curling back to a snarl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want from me?” I hissed, my servos settling on their forearm, its sharp plating the trade of a speedster. The blade was pulled taut against my neck, pushing in cabling that kept me alive. I gasped as I felt something split open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want anything from you,” the voice growled deeply. “I only want to see the look on Megatron’s face as I slit your throat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mech stepped back and we began to walk. For what would be the first time of many attempts on my life, I was led with a blade to my neck towards the ballroom doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Open the door,” the voice commanded. “And make sure you get Megatron’s attention. The instructions were very… </span>
  <em>
    <span>specific</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I reached forward, pulling down on the door handle. “From who? The </span>
  <em>
    <span>senate</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice chuckled. “I’m not at will to say. You’ve crossed a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of mechs, little seeker. Even Kaon can’t keep you safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone in that room has a gun,” I hissed. “As soon as the door opens, you'll get your helm shot off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think I’m behind you? I've been in this gig since long before you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>existed</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Failing to recognize the danger I truly faced, I smirked, swinging the door open hard enough to shatter its glass. As the glistening fragments fell, just about every helm in the room turned to investigate the noise, including Megatron. The band threw down their instruments. A chorus of activated pistols and bottles breaking echoed across the ballroom. It was music to my audials.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron, as if an assassination attempt was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bore</span>
  </em>
  <span>, swung his arms up and outward. Like a messiah, I watched my gladiator silently part the crowd. Several times through the war, on planets thriving with fauna, I had the pleasure of seeing predators hunt, waiting, </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for the moment to strike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>close enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” my assailant snarled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s hulking pedes came to a reluctant stop. “It seems,” he murmured, “we have an uninvited guest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt the stranger’s helm turn slowly, scanning faces, calculating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose we do,” he agreed. His processor must have been racing. One mech against over a hundred decepticons. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pissed</span>
  </em>
  <span> decepticons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me,” Megatron smirked, “how can we help you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Deadlock</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The arm around my waist tightened. Clearly, he hadn’t expected to be named.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My customer was very </span>
  <em>
    <span>peculiar </span>
  </em>
  <span>when they paid me,” Deadlock grumbled. “The sick bastard wants Starscream sliced in front of the decepticon leader. I’m guessing that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around us, mechs grew restless. No one knew who would make the first move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron sipped from his glass, licking his lips as he let it fall to the floor. He lifted a pede, crushing it. “I agree, that is quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>morbid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m just curious as to what’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>keeping you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Megatron!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I wailed, followed by a string of curses. Deadlock snarled as his arm yanked back against my resistance. I yelped as the blade drew ever closer to the life supporting cables in my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great </span>
  <em>
    <span>Primus</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Deadlock chuckled. I shivered as his lips brushed against the fins of my audial. “What a catch, Starscream. Are you sure this is</span>
  <em>
    <span> the one</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My jaw popped as I grit my denta. “I’m re</span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems your playtoy is rethinking </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron chuckled, crossing his arms. “Actually, he’s not wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t amused. In fact, I was growing nervous. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Megatron</span>
  </em>
  <span>, quit messing around!” I fumed, my servos planted firmly on Deadlock’s arm. “This isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>funny!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s smile fell. “You think I’m joking, Starscream? I might be laughing, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hardly</span>
  </em>
  <span> find this humorous. You disappear for almost a </span>
  <em>
    <span>decacycle</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ignore my calls, rouse the news, and you come crawling back, unannounced, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>bragging</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorely</span>
  </em>
  <span> mistaken to think I would tolerate that kind of behavior. Perhaps I shall enjoy the sight of energon pouring from your neck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The adrenaline was fading, and as it evolved to panic, I felt my legs weaken. Deadlock began to support my weight. To hear Megatron suggest I die... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron,” I whimpered, “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It won’t happen again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s broad shoulders shrugged loosely, as if my words were meaningless. “I don’t know, Starscream. You’ve made the same false promises many times before. Perhaps, too many times?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it all in, Starscream,” Deadlock growled, though I’m not sure his anger was directed to me. “This is what you signed up for. This is what it means to be a decepticon. Letting mechs die before they’re even full grown.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>plenty</span>
  </em>
  <span> grown,” Megatron glowered, “and he’s perfectly capable of making his own decisions. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unfortunately</span>
  </em>
  <span>, several of those decisions have hindered my progress to a greater Cybertron. I’m deciding if I can tolerate any </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>decisions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I must have been a humiliating sight, trembling, desperate, in Deadlock’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Megatron</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I whispered, my lips trembling, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>… </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence felt like acid in my fuel pump. I sobbed helplessly, my legs long since numb. Deadlock grunted as he adjusted his grip. His blade was ice cold, yet it burned like fire against my neck. I wasn’t ready to die. I wanted to go home. I wanted my trine. The pure </span>
  <em>
    <span>helplessness </span>
  </em>
  <span>running through my body. I could feel the ice burning my cheek as my scanner searched for Jetfire. That storm. If only I had noticed it sooner…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hook,” Megatron murmured, “the case. Bring it to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wailed as something in my neck split. Drips of coolant slid down my cockpit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>move</span>
  </em>
  <span> if I were you!” Deadlock snarled, a desperate command.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hook paused, something hanging in his servo. Megatron lowered his servos slowly, as if to soothe the volatile levels of tension hanging in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hear you have a penchant for circuit boosters,” Megatron said. “I’m sure by now you’ve heard about dark energon. How it’s more than </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice</span>
  </em>
  <span> the strength of any booster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deadlock snarled, though I felt his grip falter. “Those are just rumors,” he growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>assure </span>
  </em>
  <span>you,” Megatron smirked, “they’re not. Would you like to try for yourself? I’m sure you’d get quite the </span>
  <em>
    <span>high</span>
  </em>
  <span> with… say… enough to kick a titan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In my audial, Deadlock swallowed drly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hook, if you will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I winced when Hook stepped forward, yet nothing was cut. The case was dropped before Megatron and the room tensed as it was kicked down the path. My leg jolted as it collided with the tip of my pede.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you say, Deadlock? My seeker for the greatest high of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deadlock’s fans sputtered. I trembled as his speedster leg curled around mine, dragging the dark energon behind us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s optic glimmered. “Well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deadlock’s digits tightened, sliding up to my turbine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If anyone moves,” he growled quietly, “I’ll shove this blade right into his spark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Megatron replied calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As his grip released, Deadlock bent down, his arm sliding down my body as he reached for the case. Slowly, I was released, though I dared not move. I listened as his pedes crossed the balcony, and he was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My entire frame jumped about a foot when Hook burst out in laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyone else need a </span>
  <em>
    <span>drink</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he hollered maniacily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crowd relaxed, joining in on the nervous laughter and passing jokes. I gasped for air, hugging myself as my body shook with charge. When I finally opened my optics, Megatron was standing before me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit your hysterics,” he grumbled. “I just saved your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have the chance to duck before my servo collided with his face.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>remember to follow my twitter @gupybot for updates! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Identity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream subjects himself to Soundwave's "test" in order to prove his validity as a true decepticon.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As I was writing megatron's experience as a miner, I felt "Whistling Winds" by Cosmic Space Traveler perfectly fit the description.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron always left the party </span>
  <em>
    <span>painfully</span>
  </em>
  <span> early. It wasn’t far past midnight before we landed on the balcony of his apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is humiliating,” I lamented, throwing myself into his couch. “I can still hear the </span>
  <em>
    <span>band</span>
  </em>
  <span> from here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron glanced back towards the hotel, its shining skylights only three blocks away. “When you wake before dawn on a daily basis, you tend to retire early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I groaned into the pillow. Riding with the windows down had failed to counteract the copious high grade in my tanks. “I wake up early, too. But you don’t see me acting like a decrepit old mech!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of digits dragging against suede brushed up to my helm, and my spark jumped when Megatron chuckled deeply. “Your generation… You think you will never grow old.” I felt Megatron sit beside me just before a rugged servo began petting the back of my helm. There are moments, when a loved one is touching you, that you wish would last forever. I sighed, my face smushed into his pillow, optics closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One day,” Megatron whispered, “you will understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My face rolled out from the pillow. “Do you have any offspring?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron laughed, his petting paused. “I would certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope</span>
  </em>
  <span> not!” He smiled down at me. It was hard to make him smile, even before the war. “Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed, hugging the pillow against my cockpit. “Someone just tried to kill me, yet I feel like it never even happened. I… I feel so safe with you. You touch like you’ve put a sparkling to sleep a thousand times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s smile faded. He held my gaze for a moment longer, then stood and walked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I were a sire,” he murmured, “I have yet to meet them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rose to my knees, watching Megatron walk to his kitchen. “I had a lot of time to think,” I said, “in the academy. I realized I know nothing about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron smirked, swiping a foreign nut from a glass blown bowl. It crushed effortlessly between his digits. “You know everything about me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I don’t,” I insisted, laying my helm on the back of his couch. “I don’t even know how old you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gladiator huffed. “Your obsession with my age…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious,” I whined. “Give me a number.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see… Fifty two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Haha. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m serious!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As am I. Ask something else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I groaned, my optics rolling. “Fine. What’s it like being an energon miner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron leaned against the island of his kitchen, his arms crossed as he crushed the seed between his denta. “I’ve already told you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told me what it </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels</span>
  </em>
  <span> like. What was your </span>
  <em>
    <span>job</span>
  </em>
  <span>? What was an average day like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wake up. You refuel. You mine rocks. Then you sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My silent glare must have amused him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron sighed, smirking as he shook his helm. He reached forward for another nut. “You wake up, crouched among your brothers. It takes a long time to wake up. The lack of energon… makes it take a long time for your engines to warm up. Most are already awake. Some from nightmares, others from checking to see who died in the night.” The smirk had faded to an absent gaze. “If someone died… You can use their limbs to fix those who need it. You always need parts. Without proper fueling, your body doesn’t have the resources to fix itself. Finally, when the boss comes in, you get up. You descend to the core and start mining. It gets hot. Scalding… Humid. You swear your paint will melt off, but it never does. You have heat resistant paint. We call it the miner’s gray… The sound of your axe… hitting the rock… is hard to forget. It’s… the first sound you come to know.” Megatron’s ruby optics glowed deeply in the kitchen, though he was looking right through me. I hadn’t realized how dark his apartment was. “Maybe you hear a scream. Someone lost their arm. Or fell through a hole. It’s too dark to see who it was, anyway.” I slipped from the couch, finding myself pulled to the kitchen. My steps slowed, and I realized I was shaking. Megatron… The look in his optics. It frightened me. “It doesn’t matter. You have your job and… they have theirs. You need to focus. You have a quota. Maybe you loved them but… that’s more energon for you. More parts. Maybe you can get that t-cog you needed. Or a fuel pump. It’s hot. Keep mining. Ke-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron looked down, his spell broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I clung to his arm, pulling gently. “You don’t have to talk about it anymore,” I whispered, “if you don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s furrowed optics softened. The soft smile returned. “You asked what my job was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm. “It’s okay. Let’s talk about something else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A servo came up, resting on my cheek. “Do you know why you and I have red optics?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question had been so random. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you were in Crystal City, did you ever notice how bright it was? All the time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I paused, and I realized he was right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron turned out of my grasp, bending over to take my face in his palms. “You and I have red optics,” he murmured, “because we see what they don’t. We don’t need lights in Kaon or Vos. If you dismantle a senator’s optic, you’ll see that they are flat. But if you open a seeker or miner’s optic, you’ll find it curved. They open and close to welcome as much light as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm, looking away. “I’ve never heard anything like this. Where did you hear that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron opened a drawer beside us, digging for something. I watched as he brought a light up to his optic, placing a servo to make a wall between his optics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light was activated, shining directly into his right optic. My lips parted as his cornea widened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And look here.” Megatron motioned to his left optic. He was right. Much like the lions I found on Earth, his cornea remained narrow in an almond slit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve… No one ever told me,” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not.” The light was deactivated, shoved back into the drawer and shut away. “Our race loves innovation. We are so willing to forget the past, to forget our ancestors. You and I, we see the dark. We see what it holds. The senate, the autobots, they are blind. They see what they choose to see. They see what they bring into the light.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I reached up, my claws running gently along my optics. “My… They can really do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is why a miner is given red optics. We must see in the mines, without any light. We must slave away, hidden from the senate, hidden from Cybertron. But they were fools to give us these optics. Starscream, the decepticons are waiting in the dark. Waiting to strike. Will you be there, waiting in the dark with me, when it's time to strike?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smiled, nodding blindly. “Of course. Of course I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you be willing to prove that to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My smile fell to a frown. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s arm crossed, pulling away from my face. “If I were to provide a simple test, would you be able to prove your legitimacy as a true decepticon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do I have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>prove</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” I growled, shoving a thumb to my cockpit. “I’ve known you since the </span>
  <em>
    <span>pits</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Megatron! I’m more loyal than </span>
  <em>
    <span>half</span>
  </em>
  <span> the decepticons we left in that hotel tonight!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You disappeared for half a deca cycle, Starscream. How do I know you weren’t with enforcers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scoffed harshly. “What are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>implying</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you have nothing to hide,” Megatron smirked, “then you’ll have no quarrel with a simple test.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My jaw clenched. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Bring it on. Give me your </span>
  <em>
    <span>test</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’ll pass it with </span>
  <em>
    <span>flying colors</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s communicator flipped open as he brought it up to his chin. “Soundwave,” he ordered, “come in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I swung back as the door to Megatron’s apartment slid open, revealing a stocic looking grounder. His chassi burned yellow as he stepped in, followed closely by two miniature grounders, an avian flier, and a mech I could only describe as some kind of jaguar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Send them away,” Megatron grumbled. “Only us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soundwave looked back. “Rumble, Frenzy, Lazerbeak, Ravage: Depart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grimaced. The harmonized tune of his voice sent shivers down my back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mechs left, closing the door behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream,” Soundwave announced, “take a seat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked. “I don’t take orders from </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A heavy servo landed on my shoulder. Megatron’s piercing optics leveled with mine. “Starscream,” he growled, “you will do as he says.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I ambled to the dinner table, my limbs swinging dramatically as my optics burned into Soundwave’s crimson visor. I struggled to read him, but the faceplates hid any trace of expression. I’m sure he was just as </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see me as I was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I fell into a dining chair, huffing as I draped my arms beside me. My legs crossed, my pedes hovering daintily over the black apartment tile. “This is ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Foreign servos settled on my helm and I jumped. Every circuit in my seeker biology ran red flags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch</span>
  </em>
  <span> me!” I snapped, slapping his servos away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Starscream</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Megatron barked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this your test?” I panted, glaring fiercely up at Megatron who now sat across from me. “Letting your </span>
  <em>
    <span>admirers</span>
  </em>
  <span> grope me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron snarled, his fangs glistening. “I would never let anyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>grope</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> complete this test.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked, testing him. “And if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>fail</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s face hardened. “Your trine will hear the blast all the way from Vos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My smirk vanished. I gulped, clenching my fists on the table before me. Soundwave’s frigid servos settled on either side of my helm, making me flinch. I held my tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make sure I can see the projection,” Megatron growled. “I want to see it all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” I hissed. “What do you mean projec-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My vision blacked out when electricity shot through my helm. My body fell limp, and I lost all sensation in my limbs. I opened my mouth to scream, yet I realized I couldn’t even feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Before me, a snow white mech reached down for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What are you doing here? Where is your carrier?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>My voice, foreign to me now, whimpered Jetfire’s name. Utterly at Soundwave’s mercy, I watched as my life flashed before my optics.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Starscream, that was the most powerful, flawless first flight I have ever had the pleasure to witness.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p><em><span>“There are times that you just can’t play, Star. Play time can’t happen during class, okay?”</span></em><em><span><br/></span></em> <em><span>“What’s a heat cycle?”</span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“When you’re older, Star.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I treat you like a sparkling because you’ll always be a sparkling to me, Starscream,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, you seem so busy these days. I’ve heard you go out a lot, and now you’ve started using polishes and-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know what I think? I think trining isn’t as nearly as important or romantic as everyone makes it out to be. I’m beginning to wonder if seekers don’t actually just pretend to love their trine just to get everyone off their back, and I can understand why!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You have to learn to see the beauty in everything. You see ice, but I see a serene wonderland. There isn’t even a breeze.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve found that life is much richer when you take the time to slow down. We can never relive a moment, but we can enjoy it while it lasts.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p><em><span>“They haven’t found any trace of him. We’re cutting off the search.”</span></em><em><span><br/></span></em> <em><span>“I don’t have to know scrap about you to know that you have no idea how this world really works.”</span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If there is no place for you in my vision of Cybertron, then I will remove you from it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I may be old, but I know when a mech is starstruck. I’m warning you, Starscream, stay away from Megatron. He will only bring you sparkbreak and confusion.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I began designing it from the moment I met you, and I sent it to Iacon to be crafted by the finest jewelers on Cybertron. I had it polished once more last night, but I doubt that it will shine as brilliantly as you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span> “You are a seeker, Starscream, the most ferocious and stunning creatures on Cybertron. Act like it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You must have a carrier module. You take to sparklings easily.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p><em><span>“No, I know I saw it. I saw violet and azure lights. There’s no way you didn’t see it, too.”</span></em><em><span><br/></span></em> <em><span>“We open our sparks, and apparently, Primus does the rest.”</span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I was never one to believe in fate, but you were always meant to stand beside me. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in my life. I’d kill for you, Starscream.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Y’know, like a sparkling… or three?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you aware that you’re wearing the ring right now?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We didn’t name you Starscream because you were annoying. We named you Starscream because you were healthy. Sick sparklings don’t scream. You were beautiful, Starscream.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I gasped for air as I was ejected back into consciousness. Soundwave’s servos released me and I fell forward, bracing myself on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Interesting</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Megatron remarked, rubbing his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I panted heavily, my body heaving as I began sobbing. “What </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> that?” I wailed, my voice static and weak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soundwave’s monotone voice echoed behind me. “Starscream: Not a threat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hissed, whipping back. I almost fell from my chair. “Get </span>
  <em>
    <span>away</span>
  </em>
  <span> from me, you sick </span>
  <em>
    <span>leech</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron chuckled before me. “I had no idea how strongly you fancied me, Starscream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My knees banged against the table as I stood, stumbling aimlessly across the apartment to the balcony. “I can’t believe this,” I panted. “I can’t believe you would </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>that to me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>whining</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Megatron growled. “You said you would pass the test, and you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I fell to my knees, my wrists aching as I struggled to keep myself off the floor. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>lied</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me, Megatron. You made me wear that ring without telling me what it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>! My life, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>trine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, all </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroyed</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You destroyed your </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> life!” Megatron barked, standing so quickly that the chair fell from under him. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you signed up for!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Senator… Senator Proteus.” I rose to my pedes, yet my legs gave out. I fell upon a pillar supporting the balcony. “He warned me about you. He warned me not to pursue you. Now, because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, my trine knows everything! My bond is </span>
  <em>
    <span>ruined</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> as much a part of this affair as </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am. You ruined your </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> bond.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to speak, yet I said nothing. I knew he was right. My claws dug into the pillar as tears fell freely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were too foolish to listen to your </span>
  <em>
    <span>precious senator</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Megatron growled, “but guess </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>? It’s too </span>
  <em>
    <span>late</span>
  </em>
  <span> to turn back now. You’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>decepticon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Starscream. Start </span>
  <em>
    <span>acting</span>
  </em>
  <span> like one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going home,” I sobbed, falling forward to the balcony railing, grunting as it knocked the wind from my turbines. “I’m… I… My trine…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> home. You think you can </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> leave this city again? Without being arrested?” Megatron’s laughter burned in my spark, the flames of rage engulfing me. “You’re a wanted criminal, Starscream, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just like me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kaon</span>
  </em>
  <span> is your home now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm, refusing to believe the reality of his words. “No,” I whispered. “No, I’m going home. I’ll bring them to Kaon. I need my trine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think they </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see you?” More laughter. Morbid, </span>
  <em>
    <span>joyous </span>
  </em>
  <span>laughter. “You betrayed them. The night you came to Kaon and stepped in my office, you turned your back on your trine. They don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> you home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron always knew just what to say. My climbing of the balcony railing stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As of tonight,” Megatron said, “you are mine. And mine alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My helm shook slowly. “I’m not yours,” I whispered. “I’ll never be yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In just </span>
  <em>
    <span>five </span>
  </em>
  <span>astroseconds, I watched every moment of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You have been mine since the day you first crossed the Kaon border. You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>meant to be a decepticon, Starscream. Welcome to the rest of your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My pedes settled on the balcony tile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My trine. Did they… really hate me now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind me, Megatron stomped a pede. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Come. Here.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My digits slipped from the balcony railing. Megatron embraced me as I walked up to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I resisted, strong servos cupped my face, tilting my head back until I met Megatron’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is your home now.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>remember to follow my twitter @gupybot for updates! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Invitation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Starscream recieves an invitation to the Capitol, he finds it impossible to decline.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Perhaps it was Megatron’s snoring. Perhaps it was the crushing reality of my bond’s destruction. Either way, I no longer slept as soundly in Megatron’s apartment as I did before. Before that… </span>
  <em>
    <span>test</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It had found its way into my subconscious, the horror of becoming so… </span>
  <em>
    <span>vulnerable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Megatron had seen every moment of my life. He had seen my academy. He had seen the agony Jetfire left behind. He had even seen the moment I became one with Skywarp and Thundercracker. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not even my most intimate moments, had been left out. And it horrified me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet another sleepless night. I rolled onto my back, sighing dejectedly after yet another hour of insomnia. I glanced to my right, the neon blue of Megatron’s alarm clock burning my optics. Had he always snored like this? When had his mattress become so flimsy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I groaned under my breath, swinging my legs over the side of the berth. There was no point staying under the covers. It’s not like I’d be in recharge any time soon. I stood up, taking my pillow with me. This would be the sixth time tonight I had wandered to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaon became so peaceful at night. So unlike Vos, Cybertron’s nightlife capital. My spark yearned for the echoing bass, thrusters whizzing by my apartment, seekers laughing, intoxicated shuttles struggling to fly home. I missed the music. I missed the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I missed my trine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My communicator flipped open for what must have been the thousandth time. Surely, they wanted to know I was alright? That I was safe? My digits hovered over the hologram keyboard, brushing over Thundercracker and Skywarp’s contacts.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The night you came to Kaon and stepped in my office, you turned your back on your trine. They don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you home.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>My communicator shut as I lowered my arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” a deep, sluggish voice growled, “where are you going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced back, turning away from the window. “The kitchen. I’m thirsty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron mumbled something I couldn’t catch. The berth creaked as he rolled over. I waited, frozen in silence, until the snoring resumed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I slid past the energon miner, leaving the door open as I made my way to the kitchen. I glanced to the balcony, gazing out at the Kaon horizon. I couldn’t recall another time I felt so alone. I looked down, a servo running up along my cockpit, and I wondered if the spark it held was still alight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s fridge was a sorry excuse for food. I moved past bottles of high grade and seasoning, fantasizing about my kitchen back in Vos. I had paid contractors to customize the counters, molten glass poured over the brightest imported slab of larimar this side of the galaxy. At this time of night, I could have ordered dishes that cost more than Megatron’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>rent</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s not like I could have, anyway. Megatron had ordered my assets frozen. As far as clean money goes, I was completely and utterly broke, resolved to the level of </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging </span>
  </em>
  <span>Megatron for every purchase he approved. That was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> he approved it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pulled out a tarnish blend, shaking the jug as I brought it to the kitchen island. It hissed as I cracked it open, high caste energon sliding down my neck as I chugged like a poorly raised sparkling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sat in silence, leaning on the island, nursing my jug of energon. My audials waited, begged, for any sign of life. The constructicons were probably blacked out somewhere fun. Somewhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>anywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span> but this damned apartment. I set my jaw on my first, sighing as I watched the balcony curtains flutter in the warm breeze, debating the consequences I’d face in the morning if I went out for a midnight flight. Looking back, I find that first cycle in Megatron’s apartment to be one of my lowest moments. The balcony doors were wide open, yet my incubating fear of Megatron kept me chained to his wrist. I could almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the leash around my neck. I always thought I was so clever, finding ways to break his chain, thinking I had </span>
  <em>
    <span>free will</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even today, I find myself considering Megatron’s opinion in just about every decision I make.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone knocked on the door. I jumped, slapping a servo over my mouth before I could yelp. Had Soundwave returned? At </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>hour?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I inched to the doorway, my steps uncertain. Would Megatron be mad if I opened the door? My fuel pump thumped as I considered the possibility of another assassin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An assassin wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>knock</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>fool</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I hissed under my breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I switched the door to a manual release, sliding the door open about an inch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” I whispered, peeking out. I waited for a response, yet none came. The door whined as it opened. I grimaced, glancing back to the habsuite, waiting for the snoring to stop. When the gladiator failed to wake, I pushed the door open a little more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hallway, to my utter bewilderment, was absent of any signs of life. I glanced left and right, wondering if I had just imagined the knocking. The hallway frightened me, it’s flickering luminescent lights the stuff of a sparkling’s nightmare. I stepped out to get a better look, but something by my pedes stopped me. Someone had left a box not much bigger than my servo. A box with my name on it. And only my name on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slid shut as I retreated back into the apartment, box in tow. I locked the door, still a bit frightened by the darkness. The box rattled when I placed it on the dining table. A gift? Perhaps from my trine? How would they have known where to find me?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Enthralled by the idea of establishing contact with my trine, I cut the ribbon holding the box shut with a claw, smiling as I discarded it. Maybe it was polish, or perhaps a love letter?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My smile faded as quickly as the box fell open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two servos. One violet. One azure. Clasped together, digits intertwined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two dismembered servos. One violet. One azure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dripping with energon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fresh energon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My servo flew to my mouth, silencing a scream. Suddenly, it felt like every drop of highgrade had flooded my processor. I reached for the bleeding clasped servos, picking them up with trembling arms. At that age, I could not have imagined a more horrifying sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skywarp,” I whimpered. “Thunder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I watched the energon drip from crudely ripped cables, something in the box caught my optic. Someone had left a business card, a message written on parchment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>senate’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>parchment.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They put up quite a fight.</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Obviously, it wasn’t enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s find a way to settle this mess, shall we?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They’re waiting for you at the Capitol.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Only you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There comes a moment, in every mech’s life, where all thoughts of rationality and reason are obliterated, overpowered only by love. Love for all you’ve known. Only through love can someone truly discard any trace of fear for their life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My wings were carrying me to Crystal City before the card had even settled on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is said that the first seeker once broke mach 4. If that tale is to be believed, it could surely be beaten by the speed I flew to Crystal City. My thrusters, my stabilizers, my rudder, </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>bolt in my body, were pushed to their absolute limit as I tore through the clouds of Cybertron. I doubt I’ll ever match that speed again in this lifetime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t care less about Megatron. I couldn’t care less about my warrant. I couldn’t care less about who I was or anything I’d accomplished thus far. For those few, fleeting kilks, I was nothing but a seeker coming for their family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And I was ready to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strip of flashing lights had been laid out on the roof. They knew I was coming. They knew I was here. I didn’t even think of braking. My wings sliced metal as I dove through the ceiling of our planet’s Capitol, and rubble tumbled around me as I collided with a stone floor. I groaned, ignoring the searing pain in just about every inch of my body as I forced myself to stand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bit dramatic, don’t you think?” A familiar voice called from above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked up to Senator Proteus, my voice brimming with rage. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Where are they</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Senator chuckled, shrugging as he descended a flight of stairs. I had landed in some kind of clearing, a vacant room illuminated only by a hanging neon lantern. It must have been a storage room. Boxes had been stacked against titanium walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would I know?” Senator Proteus mused. “Somewhere in Vos, I suppose.” He reached up, snapping to the ceiling. I glanced up just before someone pushed a metal cover over the hole I’d made in the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics shot back to the senator. “Where is my </span>
  <em>
    <span>trine</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you approve of my craftsmanship?” The Senator grinned, closing the space between us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I paused. “Craftsmanship?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They looked quite real, didn’t they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My wings fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were fake,” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus smirked. “Turns out, a bit of paint is all you need to catch a seeker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My servos opened before me. Violet and azure paint now stained my palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re safe?” I breathed, brushing a thumb over my palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have no interest in your trine,” Proteus sneered. “We just needed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I exhaled slowly, relief flooding my system. They were safe. The senate hadn’t touched them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which meant… No one knew I was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re safe,” I whispered, falling to my knees. I couldn’t help but smile. They were probably fast asleep, embraced beneath the covers. I would be okay. As long as they were safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I recall correctly,” Senator Proteus remarked as he began to circle the ring of light surrounding me, “I once told you to stay out of Kaon, to stay away from Megatron. I suppose my warning wasn’t enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” I smirked, “it wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what a shame it is.” The senator shook his helm, much like a disappointed professor I’d once known. “You had so much potential, Starscream. What changed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics followed the senator as he walked. “He showed me the truth. He showed me the way to freedom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus huffed in amusement. “Do tell, what is this </span>
  <em>
    <span>freedom</span>
  </em>
  <span> you speak of?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A day when seekers gain their wings. When we are no longer seen as playthings and memoires.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, playthings and </span>
  <em>
    <span>memories</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That midnight conjux of yours… She put on quite the display last cycle, calling upon just about every seeker in Crystal City to become a </span>
  <em>
    <span>decepticon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She said you were her guiding light. She was quite the fighter when we finally tracked her down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics widened. “What did you do to her? Where is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus chuckled, entertained by my fury. “You were sweet on her, I could tell. You couldn’t keep your optics off her that night in Velocitron. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unfortunately</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she didn’t survive the operation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grimaced, pulling back. “Operation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s all the rage now!” Senator Proteus giggled, clasping his servos together. “A bit of alteration here, a little there, and you wake up free of any decepticon inclinations! You’re going to love it, I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shut my optics, looking away. The pieces were clicking in place. It all made sense now. Everything Megatron had said. The two hundred decepticons who’d gone missing only solar cycles after the clampdown. Everything I’d known to be true, yet refused to believe. “Senator Proteus’s Promise,” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve always been such a smart mech, Starscream. What a shame, that we must waste it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what you’re going to do to me?” I hissed, finding the strength to stand. “Scramble my processor? Make me your slave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Primus, no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>dream</span>
  </em>
  <span> of making you a slave. But, alas, crimes have punishments. I can’t promise how Cybertron will treat you when they see your new look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My jaw popped as it clenched. “My </span>
  <em>
    <span>new look</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slid open, revealing a stern Sentinel Prime, followed closely by Cybertron’s senate. They approached the ring of light, circling me like some kind of twisted seance. I whipped back, glaring at their smiling faces. Everyone was here, except…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Senator Shockwave?” I hissed, my optics meeting Sentinel’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A sudden termination of employment,” the prime growled. “Another one of your decepticon </span>
  <em>
    <span>conspirators</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scowled, looking down. “Another one of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>operations</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard he was quite a screamer,” Senator Proteus chuckled. “Don’t worry, Starscream. I’ve asked them to make sure they numb you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How generous,” I whispered, tears beginning to cloud my optics. I wasn’t getting out of here, was I?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t take it personally, Starscream,” Sentinel murmured. Behind him, a burly enforcer entered the room. “We simply cannot allow the decepticon cause to take hold of Cybertron. By stopping it now, we’ve actually done our citizens a </span>
  <em>
    <span>favor</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Think of how many lives Megatron would have taken, if things had escalated any further.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sniffed, reaching up to wipe my cheeks. I couldn’t bring myself to meet their glowering optics. “So, it’s alright if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> take our lives, but not Megatron?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t take lives, Starscream. We give them </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” I whispered, “you give them a life of absent thought and mangled bodies. We truly are fortunate to have our senate to protect us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I growled, looking up at Sentinel’s looming frame. “You can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>this to me! I’ll tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you did, and they’ll finally see the </span>
  <em>
    <span>truth</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel frowned, shaking his helm slowly. “No, I don’t think you will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A heavy servo thrust into my back. I gasped, falling forward onto my knees. I reached back to swipe at my assailant, but the enforcer behind me wrenched my servos in place. I wailed in agony, my arms bent past their tolerance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sentinel stepped forward, crouching on one knee before me. “You see, even if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>any trace of thought beyond what we allow you to have, it wouldn’t matter. Your servos won’t be able to hold a stylus. And I’m taking your vocalizer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I exhaled sharply, looking up at the prime. “Why not just </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill</span>
  </em>
  <span> me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A golden servo reached forward, wiping tears from my cheeks. I cried out as the enforcer twisted my arms, reminding me not to resist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The senate would never break a trine bond,” Sentinel explained, as if it all made perfect sense, as if it were </span>
  <em>
    <span>reasonable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “This way, everyone wins. Within a stellar cycle, all decepticons will have been repaired by The Institute. Your trine will have you back. I’m sure they’ll find a way to love you, even without this gorgeous face of yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senator Proteus was already leaving. He snapped his digits, corralling every senator to depart. “Tell the enforcers to pull out from his apartment,” he barked to the enforcer behind me. “Starscream is no longer a threat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir.” A pair of handcuffs were slapped around my wrists, my arms left twisted in place. I groaned breathlessly, my optics shutting as I struggled to ignore the pain throbbing through my body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a shame,” Sentinel sighed. “I won’t lie to you, Star. I’m disappointed that you chose Megatron over me. If you had just accepted that necklace, we wouldn’t have a need for Shadowplay. I would have considered keeping you, if not for the Empurata. I felt it to be excessive, but Senator Proteus insisted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I struggled for air. “Even if you burned me alive,” I growled weakly, “I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>belong to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prime smiled, rubbing yet another streak of tears from my face. “That’s what I loved about you,” he murmured. “You were such a fierce mech. I couldn’t have designed a better seeker myself.” His digits brushed over my turbines, making me shiver. I held the need to spit directly into his optic as digits trailed along the side of my waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately,” he sighed, “it wouldn’t matter regardless. I don’t take faceless mechs to berth.” I watched in silent disdain as he reached into a cargo hold in his breastplate, pulling out a velvet box, much like the one I’d seen at the hotel so many years ago. The Iacon Jewelers nameplate glistened in the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would have turned six hundred next deca cycle. I was planning on taking you to Iacon for dinner. I was so disappointed when that reporter pointed out Senator Decimus’s ring on the news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked down, panting in agony as the senator opened the box, revealing a sapphire necklace. If not for the pain and </span>
  <em>
    <span>burning hatred </span>
  </em>
  <span>for Sentinel Prime, I might have found it beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” he said. “It would have been yours. I want to see it on you while you still… look like this.” I growled as his servos reached behind my neck, digits fumbling with a clasp. When his wrist passed my lips, I reached over and bit down with as much force as I could muster. The prime cried out in surprise just before the enforcer yanked back on my cuffs. I fell back, bracing myself just before he slapped me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Sentinel snapped. “Don’t hit the face. You could ruin his paint.” I flexed my jaw, frowning as the prime began laughing heartily. “Great </span>
  <em>
    <span>Primus</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” He chuckled, rubbing his wrist, energon dripping to the floor. “What is it with seekers and </span>
  <em>
    <span>biting</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I thought I’d grown used to the midnight conjuxes resisting me, but that was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The enforcer pulled me to my pedes. My helm rolled lazily as I struggled to find balance, leaning back against his broad chestplate. In the corner of my optic, I saw Sentinel Prime staring, </span>
  <em>
    <span>lavishing</span>
  </em>
  <span> the sight of me for what we both thought was the last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take him to The Institute,” he ordered gruffly. “And make sure you knock him out before you get him in the transport.” I listened, panting silently, as the prime made his way to the door. “It was a pleasure knowing you, Starscream,” he called, activating the door switch. “Too bad you chose to be a damned decepticon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked up, blinking at the enforcer. “Do me a favor,” I breathed. “Don’t hit the face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do my best,” he grumbled. “No promises.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shut my optics, turning away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I forced myself to think of Jetfire until something hard hit the back of my helm.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>SHADOWPLAY OOOOO *spooky noises*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. The Institute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>By narrowly escaping shadowplay, Starscream jumpstarts what will become Cybertron's most infamous civil war. But first, he must retrieve his trine.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jetfire!” I wail, my legs kicking fruitlessly in snarled vines. “Jetfire!” I’ve wandered from camp. Someone told me there were orchids nearby. They would teach me how to make a crown, they said, Jetfire would love it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Somewhere in the darkness, a panicked voice responds. “Star? Star, where are you?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m here,” I whimper, my voice growing weak. The adrenaline evaporates from my body as quickly as I recognize my guardian’s voice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The full moons shroud Jetfire’s looming frame in brilliant rays of silver. Like always, he has found me. He sighs in relief, covering his face with snow white servos.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I </span>
  </em>
  <span>knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>you were still too young for camping trips,” Jetfire sighs, ripping vines from my body. I wail when a thorn scrapes my belly. His servos slow, instantly gentle as he frees me from my snare.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><em><span>\</span></em> <em><span>“No, I’m not,” I whine, blissfully unaware of what could have happened. Jetfire had been the only one who’d noticed my disappearance.</span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jetfire sighs again as he pulls me from the bushes, hugging me tightly as we make our way back to camp. My arms squeeze his neck like a vice, shivering from the cold.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“One day,” he whispers, “I won’t be around to rescue you. You have to start being more careful.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I shake my helm, wings flapping fiercely to shake off dirt and rain. Jetfire cranes his neck to avoid the sharp tip beating against him. “No!” I whine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>what</span>
  <em>
    <span>?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I push back against his shoulder, looking directly into his sky blue optics. “You won’t be gone,” I insist confidently. I believed it, too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jetfire grins. He never stayed mad for long. “Oh yeah?” He says. “You think so?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I nod with sloppy vigor. I’m still adjusting to this body. I’m leaving scratches in his paint. My claws are razor sharp, growing longer by the day. At this age, seeker sparklings should be wearing mittens. Jetfire had always refused them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yep,” I explain. “I’m going to live with you forever.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Forever?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Forever.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jetfire adjusts his grip. He still doesn’t know how to carry me. “Alright, I guess we will. But you have to promise me you’ll learn to be more careful.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can hear students laughing through the trees. They’ve made a fire.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jetfire stops in his tracks, forcing eye contact. “Promise?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I giggle, wiggling in his arms. “Swing me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Instead, Jetfire lowers me to the ground. He winces when my claws dig into his elbow joints, refusing to let go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I jump excitedly, kicking mud onto the both of us. “No!” I whine, pushing against him. “Swing me! Please? Please?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stop it,” he snaps, yet his voice is gentle. In all our years together, I never learned how to take him seriously. He never learned how to demand it. “This is serious, Star. There are predatory fauna on this planet. What if they had found you just now?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A stupid question for a sparkling. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Especially </span>
  <em>
    <span>a seeker sparkling, the hardest to raise. We are banned from half the care centers on Cybertron.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nope!” I giggle repeatedly, entertained by his frustration. “Nope! Nope!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jetfire is only a few cycles older than me, yet the Academy has placed the responsibility of raising me almost entirely on his shoulders. He’s your responsibility, they had said. Like I was some kind of pet. He’s growing impatient, and he doesn’t know how to reach me. A firm servo slaps my behind, catching me entirely off guard. He’s never hit me before, and my processor fails to understand why. My giggling comes to an abrupt end just before his servos force me to look up at him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Starscream,” he states, bracing his grip on my arms, “why can’t you ever take me seriously?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The mech I spend every second with is disappointed with me. I hate the way he looks at me. I begin crying, covering my optics with bawled, pudgy servos. Students from the campsite are starting to look over, started by the sudden cries.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tears begin to well in the corners of Jetfire’s optics. He realizes what he’s done. Foolishly thinking he was the one disappointed in me, I can only imagine how upset with himself he must have been.  “Oh, Primus, Star,” he whispers, “I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Desperate for comfort, I climb onto his knee, clinging desperately in a silent apology. Jetfire struggles to control his breath, apologizing over and over, rocking the both of us. This would be the first </span>
  </em>
  <span>and</span>
  <em>
    <span> last time he would ever lay a servo on me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m so, so sorry,” he whimpers, cradling my helm under his chin. “If anything ever happened to you, I’d…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, please, learn how to protect yourself.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blazing lights cut into my optics as they opened. I winced, shutting them. My helm is </span>
  <em>
    <span>pounding</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and I can’t seem to make out the conversation happening above me. Something is dragging, metal against metal, and someone has my arms wrenched above me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good money… Sentinel… helm delivered…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics opened slowly, my vision tunneled. I looked down, and I realized I was being dragged. Someone is dragging me on the floor like a heavy bag of garbage. A pede mistakenly kicked the back of my helm and I looked to the side. Two mechs are dragging me down some kind of hallway. My audials struggled to calibrate, though now at least I could understand sentences.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard someone already bought his wings,” a mech to my right chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>morbid</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” his friend growled, “though I guess he deserves it. That enforcer said he </span>
  <em>
    <span>bit</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sentinel at the Capitol. Can you imagine having the bearings to </span>
  <em>
    <span>bite</span>
  </em>
  <span> a prime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced side to side in an attempt to recognize where I am. It’s some kind of medical facility, and the memories come pouring back. I realized with a heavy spark that I must be in “the Institute” Senator Proteus mentioned earlier. My processor raced desperately for a way to escape, though I couldn’t see how my aching body could find a way out of these servos clasped around the chain of my handcuffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m dragged over a drain grate. My optics squeezed shut as I struggled to ignore the aching pain in just about every joint in my body. When they opened, I noticed a circular piece of metal left laying on the grate. Surely, I would have dragged it under my body when I passed over it? I looked down, and that’s when I noticed a matching lid covering my left thruster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thruster inhibitors. And the drain grate had just removed one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dared not look up, lest I catch the attention of my assailants. My pedes closed slowly, ever so slowly, until they knocked together. My left pede flexed against my right thruster. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get the remaining thruster inhibitor off. It was the closest thing I had to a plan. It was the closest thing I had to saving my life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if Solus Prime herself had reached down and plucked it off herself, the inhibitor fell from my pede. It clanged loudly against the hall floor, startling the guards above me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” one shouts. “He- What did he do?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s now or never. Every fiber in my being wants to live. With every ounce of strength left in my body, I yanked down on the handcuffs, pulling the guards off balance. I’m not sure what I’m even doing. I hugged my knees to my chest, pointing my pedes to the mechs above me. Without a second thought, I engaged my thrusters, blasting holes through the helm of one and the chest of another. Their knees slammed against the tile as they collapsed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scrambled to my pedes, dizziness making me fall back against the wall. I looked down, gasping in horror as I realized what I’d done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the first time I’d killed a living being. And it would be far from the last. Yet, at the time, I couldn’t bear the sight of it. My lip trembled as I watched their optics fade to black.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m…” I whispered, my legs shaking. “I’m so sorry....”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” A voice cried from down the hall. “Influx? Widecharge?” My helm turned just in time to see a security guard look right at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” She cried, pulling out her pistol. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Down on the floor, now!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I screamed as shots fired around me, covering my face with my chained servos. My pedes carried me down the hall, stumbling as I ran blindly for an exit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Get back here!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within moments, the lights switched to red. They knew I was loose. I grunted as I collided with a stairwell door. A blaring alarm pierced my audials as I struggled to turn the knob. Behind me, heavy steps closed the space between us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, I managed to calm my digits just enough to pry the door open. I descended the stairs, hoping, </span>
  <em>
    <span>praying</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that this would somehow lead me out of here. Above, someone entered the stairwell. I looked up, my optics meeting the glare of an enforcer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you’re getting out of here?” he hissed, skipping steps as he chased me down. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No one </span>
  </em>
  <span>escapes The Institute!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My legs are fast, though his are faster. I could hear him getting closer. I yelped as digits brushed against my wing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I chose the floor whose door was open. I dashed in, barreling past a nurse. Their cart tumbled to the floor, scalpels and a soldering iron spinning out across the tile. I wouldn’t let them take my servos. I wouldn’t let them take my wings. I wouldn’t let them take my </span>
  <em>
    <span>face</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The enforcer fired his gun behind me. My audials caught the sound of a bullet hitting glass and I watched as a window shattered before me. I didn’t have to think twice. I scrambled up into the window pane, thrusters engaging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My transformation yanked the handcuffs apart, wings flexing as I climbed the skies of Iacon city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream,” he answered my call almost instantly, “Starscream, where are you? I found your package on the counter an-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No time,” I cut in. “Megatron, the senate! They- I know what happened to those missing Decepticons! Shadowplay!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shadowplay…” Megatron’s voice trailed off, and the sound of Soundwave’s monotone voice echoed from behind. “I thought it was just a rumor…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ice hung to my wings as I jet past Praxus. “I’m so sorry, Megatron. I know I said I wouldn’t run off again, but- they sent me that package and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Megatron silenced me, the calm, collected tone of his voice indicating his multitasking. “I should be the one apologizing. I should have protected you from the senate. I knew they wanted your helm, but I should have predicted they’d go after your trine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My trine. My trine!</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tell the enforcers to pull out from his apartment. Starscream is no longer a threat.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“They didn’t go after my trine,” I said as I veered heavily to the right, orienting to Vos. “Not yet. But they will if I don’t get to there first. They probably already know I escaped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Starscream. I will send Astrotrain to retrieve them. He is one of my strongest fli-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I snapped, “he’s too slow. Besides, they wouldn’t listen to him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Starscream</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> report to Kaon immediately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grew desperate, the lights of Praxus fading quickly behind me. “Megatron, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>how my trine feels about Decepticons. If Astrotrain wrenched them out of our apartment, they’d never forgive me. They could do something rash, and it would get us </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>in trouble. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron sighed heavily, turning away from the receiver. “I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>Decepticon at attention, Soundwave, and I want them </span>
  <em>
    <span>armed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. When the senate learns of Starscream’s escape, their defenses will be more than tripled. I want them to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m coming. Connect me to every Decepticon comm on Cybertron.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind howled as I sliced through it, my wings bouncing through the turbulence. “Megatron, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They’ll kill them. They’ll kill my trine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could almost hear Megatron rubbing his chin. Expecting an approval, I was horrified to hear him ask, “What value does your trine hold for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” I snarled, diving past a thunderbolt. “What does </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> mean?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, ever since your speech in Crystal City, seekers have been flocking to Kaon by the thousands. As of last night, one hundred </span>
  <em>
    <span>thousand</span>
  </em>
  <span> seekers have registered to our cause, but they will not have me. They want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If you perish in Vos, I will lose them all. Now, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>value</span>
  </em>
  <span> does your trine hold for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One… hundred thousand?” I whispered, struggling to visualize a crowd of that magnitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough </span>
  <em>
    <span>vanity</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Megatron snapped. “Soundwave, send for Astrotrain. Tell him to retrieve Skywarp and Thundercracker of Vos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wouldn’t give him the chance to ruin my life any further. “Megatron, if you don’t let me bring my trine to Kaon, I will renounce the Decepticon cause and hail my seekers </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Kaon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> I heard something crunch on Megatron’s end. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You dare threaten me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he roared, jaw popping. I stood my ground, waiting in silence as his processor considered my words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and your trine will report to Kaon in </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> than thirty kilks,” he snarled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Consider it done,” I hissed, ending the call. My frame constricted, blasters spitting fire as I once again beat my personal record.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just wanted to mention that my mother audibly gasped when she realized where Starscream was and I gotta say it was the highlight of my life thus far. Anyway be sure to follow @gupybot on Twitter for updates! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Operation Feral</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Starscream is given the title of Air Commander of the Decepticons, but the battle has yet to begin. After receiving reports of unparalleled Autobots stationed at the Capitol, Soundwave suggests a permanent transformation that could potentially turn the tides in Megatron's favor. An unexpected seeker volunteers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Senator Proteus was true to his word. The apartment has been vacated. I slid through the skyscraper hallway, glaring up at cameras that had surely been bugged. I strode to my apartment door with all the confidence in the world, yet when I reached up to knock, I felt my servo falter.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re just as much a part of this affair as I am. You ruined your own bond.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t care if they hated me. I could handle hatred. I could handle disappointment. I had to get them out of Vos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My knuckles brushed against the titanium door, my optics shuttering. My breath shook as I sighed, willing myself to knock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t have to. The door slid open, revealing a slack jawed Skywarp. My lips opened to speak, but I was quickly crushed against his cockpit as he yanked me forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Starscream</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he whimpered, arms constricted around my waist. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My optics squeezed shut as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, feeling the weight of Thundercracker added to our embrace. “You’re… not mad?” I whispered, vocalizer trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp pulled us inside, the door sliding shut behind us. I felt him shaking before me, and I realized he was crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How could we be mad?” Thundercracker bawled, sliding around to press our cheeks together. My vents opened, welcoming the smell of my family, of our home. “Starscream, we couldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>happier</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pushed into Thundercracker’s cheek, our tears mixing as we laughed silently, deca cycles of pain and worry melting away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream,” Skywarp uttered, digits brushing my wing, “you’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>shot</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked down, watching energon drip into our imported runner. “Oh,” I breathed, “I hadn’t noticed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should- Thunder, call a medic-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” I reached up, taking Skywarp’s face in my servos. “Listen to me, both of you. You need to pack a bag, only the essentials. We have to go to Kaon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaon?” Thundercracker released himself from the embrace, taking a step back. “Why would we leave our home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is exactly why Astrotrain would have failed. “The Senate tried to kill me,” I growled. “I escaped The Institute, but they’ll be coming for us within kilks. They’re probably already on their way. If I don’t get you two out of here, you’ll be dead by sunrise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker widened optics settled. “So… it’s true, then, what we saw on the news. You’re a Decepticon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My jaw clenched, ignoring the disapproval in his tone. “Yes,” I admitted, “I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker’s digits flexed slowly. “I would rather die in my home than join a gang of punks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thunder</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Skywarp snapped, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me close, “Star might be a Decepticon, but he isn’t a </span>
  <em>
    <span>punk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>help</span>
  </em>
  <span> us, and I, for one, am not ready to </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span> tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Thundercracker barked, jabbing a digit to the both of us. “Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> two leave. I’ve seen where </span>
  <em>
    <span>cults</span>
  </em>
  <span> get you, and it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> what they promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had never seen Thundercracker so cold, so unwilling. “Thundercracker, they were going to take my helm. They were going to take my servos. One of the guards taking me to the operation table said someone had bought my </span>
  <em>
    <span>wings</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This senate needs to </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and tonight, the tyranny ends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker looked away, his anger already dissipating. He reminded me of Jetfire so strongly at times. We waited for his answer, listening to his pede tap against the tile of our parlor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t be a part of this,” he whispered. “Violence will never solve violence. Please... just go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to beg, yet Skywarp’s stern servos pulled us to our habsuite. “We have to get out of here, Star. The senate only wants Decepticons. If you and I skip town, they might leave Thunder alone.” I watched, tanks churning, as Skywarp pulled two cargo bags out of our closet. He began digging through our dresser drawers, stuffing my graduation pin, his laboratory badge, and our photo albums into what would be our last memories of Vos. In the corner of my blurred vision, Thundercracker crossed his arms. I could tell he had something to say from the tension in his stance, from his clenched fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me, Star,” he blurted, “what </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>did Megatron say to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thunder,” Skywarp mumbled, servos fumbling in his bag, “don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he tell you you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>special</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Thundercracker chuckled. “That you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>destined</span>
  </em>
  <span> for more? You know, I once knew a mech who told me the same thing. Turns out, that was right after she </span>
  <em>
    <span>ejected</span>
  </em>
  <span> my carrier and sire from our religion. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>unworthy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she said, of the greatness she and I would bring to all sentient beings. Of course, at the time, I believed </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span> word of it. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was vulnerable. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was young.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” I whispered, lying straight through my denta. “He didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker barked a laugh, pinching his digits before his face. “Then I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>curious</span>
  </em>
  <span> as to what makes Megatron so </span>
  <em>
    <span>special</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Starscream. Because you don’t just choose an </span>
  <em>
    <span>energon miner </span>
  </em>
  <span>over your own </span>
  <em>
    <span>trine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thunder</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Skywarp hissed.</span>
</p><p><span>I snarled, my humiliation growing by the second. “I didn’t choose </span><em><span>anyone</span></em><span> over my trine! I don’t know what you </span><em><span>think</span></em><span> you heard on the news, but Megatron and I aren’t a </span><em><span>thing</span></em><span>. I joined the Decepticons because I </span><em><span>wanted</span></em><span> to, not because he </span><em><span>wooed</span></em> <em><span>me</span></em><span>.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker sucked his lip, arms falling to his sides. “Are you so afraid of the truth that you’d lie to your own family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t get the chance to argue. Skywarp shoved a bag into my arms. I looked up, and my spark dwindled when I recognized the hurt in his optics. They knew what they’d heard was true. I couldn’t imagine the agony they’d felt in the last several cycles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can deal with this later,” he sighed, taking my servo. “Let’s get out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I waited for Thundercracker to stop us, yet he simply stepped aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered. “We can leave Cybertron. Let this mess pass. We can come back when it’s… when it’s calm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my cockpit, stuffing the packed bag inside. “I can’t leave my people behind, Thundercracker. I have the opportunity to end the oppression of every seeker in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>universe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I would never sleep again if I didn’t take the chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker shut his optics, hugging his abdomen. I wanted to stay, I truly did. I didn’t want to go to Kaon. I didn’t want to drag my trine into this war. Yet, the idea of Thundercracker alone and afraid as enforcers barged into our apartment…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Take Skywarp to Kaon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I decided. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’ll be safe there. I’ll go to Crystal City. I’ll call Sentinel on the way and turn myself in. They wouldn’t hurt Thunder if they have me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go,” I said, sliding the balcony door open for Skywarp. He passed through, stepping up onto the railing just before offering an open servo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We stood on the railing, our wings flexing as they prepared for flight. Our helms turned, optics meeting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled, though his gaze was full of hurt. “He’ll be okay,” he whispered. My optics closed as he leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I willed myself to look back into our apartment. I wish I hadn’t. Thundercracker stood in the door of our habsuite, servos covering his face, looking utterly defeated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp broke my spell with a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go.” I blinked, nodding and looking up to the sky. We stepped off the balcony, free falling for a few floors before our thrusters engaged. Our t-cogs sang in unison as we transformed. I had forgotten just how synchronized a trine becomes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I remember how Vos twinkled the night I first took flight. I remember the clouds, how they parted like silk sheets in the breeze, letting the fire of stars shine through.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re not quite ready for space yet, little Star.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>My flaps yanked up as we climbed the skies of Vos. Within kilks, the lights of the horizon began to fade. Cutting through the rain, sailing to Kaon, I can only remember the overwhelming sense of gratitude as Skywarp matched my speed, loyalty unyielding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doors of Megatron’s christened warship opened as soon as we entered Kaon airspace. We landed with a clumsy thud, unfamiliar with landing on an airborne object, let alone a ship. We had landed in a main hallway, yet there wasn’t a mech in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A speaker crackled as it activated above us. “All air units, report to hanger number four. All air units, report to hanger number four.” My communicator module beeped as I received a map to the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>size</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this thing,” Skywarp whistled. “Megatron sure has grown since the arena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked, taking his servo as I led us to what I presumed would be the lower floors. “This is nothing. Wait until you see the rest of the fleet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron was waiting, pacing the floors, as we entered the main hanger. He looked up as we entered, arms swinging by his sides as he marched up to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You hung up on me,” he growled. “I had no way of tracking your position.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had been hoping for a better first impression. “I said I was going to Vos.” I stepped aside, revealing an awe struck Skywarp. “Clearly, it worked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron loomed over Skywarp with piercing optics, crossing his arms. “You must be Skywarp,” he grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp’s dumbstruck smile vanished almost instantly. “Yeah,” he smirked, “I guess I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but notice the tension hanging in the air. It took me a moment to realize that my </span>
  <em>
    <span>trine</span>
  </em>
  <span> and my… </span>
  <em>
    <span>commander</span>
  </em>
  <span> were finally meeting each other. I considered stepping between them, but Skywarp appeared unbothered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you can teleport,” Megatron inquired. “That’s quite the </span>
  <em>
    <span>blessing</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’ve got there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blinked slowly, gazing up at Megatron’s glooming face. I hadn’t remembered telling him that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flashes of electricity danced over Skywarp’s hitched wings. He grinned. “Not the only blessing I’ve received.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed nervously, reaching out to touch Megatron’s arm. Their glare broke, Megatron turning to face me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re late,” he chastised. “They’re waiting for you on hanger four.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My processor blanked. “Who is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron smirked, already walking away. “Your seekers. I presume you have a speech prepared?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My lips suddenly felt quite dry. I looked up to Skywarp, optics wide and full of horror. He shrugged, equally as unprepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Go</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Megatron ordered, stepping up to a module in the wall. “It’s going to be a long night for </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skywarp wiggled with excitement, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “I knew you were a public figure, but I guess you’re quite the celebrity now! Come on, let’s go greet your </span>
  <em>
    <span>seekers</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” a familiar voice scoffed behind us. “Let’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My helm whipped back. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thunder</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker leaned against the door frame of the hanger, canvas bag hanging from his servo. Megatron looked up from his typing, his attention piqued. Thundercracker met his gaze, the loathing in his optics palpable. Megatron huffed, entertained by the standoff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trines are meant to stay together,” Thundercracker lamented. “I won’t lose you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you wish to join your trine here in Kaon,” Megatron challenged, “you will swear yourself to the Decepticons. And you will be under </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>command.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t come for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Thunder snapped harshly, a digit pointed in my direction, “I came for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I will do as </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>commands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that so?” Megatron closed the module with a swish of his servo, walking across the hanger. The wall slid away, and my audials flooded with the animated cheers of what must have been some tens of thousands of Decepticons. As I stepped up to the door, Megatron placed a servo on my shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream,” he began, lowering down to level our optics, “tonight, we bring an end to this corrupt government. I watched your graduation, and I watched you in Crystal City. I know how naturally you reach the sparks of our citizens, of seekers </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>you to reach their sparks tonight. If they do not share your drive for freedom, they will perish in the Capitol. Can you reach them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez,” Skywarp jeered, “no </span>
  <em>
    <span>pressure</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I reached up, laying cobalt digits over my commander’s. “Yes,” I murmured, “yes I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could react, Megatron reached forward, bringing our lips together. I muffled a yelp, though his servo remained steadfast as I tried to pull away. Behind me, Thundercracker averted his gaze. Skywarp, for once, said nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go,” Megatron commanded. “They’re waiting for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced back at my trine, nodding to the door. I didn’t have time for drama. Megatron’s childish show of dominance wouldn’t deter me. My trine followed closely, and Megatron stepped away, as we made our way onto the hanging bridge of hanger four.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cries of praise and adoration grew when they recognized me. I looked down, gasping as I absorbed the sight. Over sixty thousand pairs of wings fluttered below me, crimson optics dotting the hanger floor, a blazing nebula of seekers and shuttles. The bridge shook under our pedes as I stepped up to the microphone, dangling from a cable strung to the hanger ceiling. I accepted it, pulling it from its mount, and licked my lips in pure disbelief of what I had achieved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They aren’t here for Megatron,” Thundercracker whispered breathlessly. “They came for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Star.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” I replied, digits rubbing my neck. “I can’t… believe this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rose a servo, silencing the crowd. They waited apprehensively, smiling and laughing in awe. Some transformed, hovering in the air, for a better view. Several mechs had begun recording.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a breath, running a servo down my cockpit. Perhaps it was the burning in my bleeding wing. Perhaps it was from being knocked out. Likely, it was the realization of how my life was about to change, or a mixture of all. It all made my helm spin, and I braced myself on the bridge railing for support. I wasn’t quite sure that I wouldn’t pass out. The microphone felt like lead in my palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The average life expectancy… of a Cybertronian,” I willed myself to speak, “is eleven million years. The average life expectancy of a seeker… is nine million years. For a midnight conjux, a little under ten </span>
  <em>
    <span>thousand</span>
  </em>
  <span> years.” The crowd raged, though it wasn’t at me. I snarled, digits straining over the microphone. “Doesn’t that sound a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>unfair</span>
  </em>
  <span> to you?! During my time serving as your delegate, I once discovered a report left on Sentinel Prime’s desk. According to the government, the leading cause of death among midnight conjures is </span>
  <em>
    <span>transmitted diseases. Well</span>
  </em>
  <span>, according to </span>
  <em>
    <span>science</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the field that </span>
  <em>
    <span>raised </span>
  </em>
  <span>me and made me </span>
  <em>
    <span>who I am</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the leading cause is </span>
  <em>
    <span>suicide</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Doesn’t that make you wonder what </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> your senate has told you?” I paused to increase the volume of my microphone, for the livid cries of the crowd almost drowned me out. “Do you know why seekers live two million years </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> than grounders? I’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell </span>
  </em>
  <span>you why. Who in their right </span>
  <em>
    <span>mind</span>
  </em>
  <span> could live a peaceful life under the </span>
  <em>
    <span>constant</span>
  </em>
  <span> scrutiny of </span>
  <em>
    <span>expectations</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Look this way. Change this. Change </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Wear </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Polish </span>
  <em>
    <span>daily</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Act like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Who decided how we could </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span>? How we </span>
  <em>
    <span>behave</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Well, your </span>
  <em>
    <span>senate</span>
  </em>
  <span>, of course! You are here today because you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>ready</span>
  </em>
  <span> for freedom, yet I promise you </span>
  <em>
    <span>now,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it will never be given to you. Tonight, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> follow me to Crystal City, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> take your freedom </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span> from your senate. You will take your freedom back from </span>
  <em>
    <span>every grounder on Cybertron</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tell me, seekers, do you have the </span>
  <em>
    <span>bearings</span>
  </em>
  <span> for that?” The crowd jeered in exhilaration. They were more than ready. We could have opened the doors and let the fire rain freely. Yet Megatron stepped forward, an open palm waiting for the microphone. I smirked, reluctantly returning it to our leader.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He coughed once, beating a fist against his breastplate. “Starscream and I may have differing rewards after our assault on Crystal City, yet our ultimate goal remains united. By sunrise, our people will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>free. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We will once again take command of our lives. We will no longer answer to a government dictated by a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mythical bauble</span>
  </em>
  <span>. After tonight, you will answer to a leader earned by </span>
  <em>
    <span>strength</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He paused, glancing down with curled lips to my trine. “A certain seeker once told me he would not obey my command. I can only assume most if not all of you feel the same way. I must admit, I understand your reasoning. During my imprisonment in the energon mines, I came to realize the strength of familiar faces, of family united by shared biology. Taking your wishes into consideration, I hereby name Starscream of Vos as Air Commander of the Decepticons, consequently making him my Second in Command. From this moment forward, </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span> winged Decepticon will be under </span>
  <em>
    <span>his command</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if I had been thrown under water, my breath escaped me. Skywarp and Thundercracker gaped at one another, servos covering their mouths. The crowd applauded with clanging palms, filling the hanger with audial splitting echoes. Megatron moved to return the microphone, but I jumped forward, wrapping my arms around his neck. He chuckled, hoisting me by the waist and embracing my slender frame. I had nothing more to say. Nothing could have made this moment more perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet perfection never lasts. Soundwave came marching forward, the faceplates and visor failing to mask his panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron,” he hissed, “reports from the Capitol have just arrived. The number of enforcers armed and stationed nearby have more than-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Megatron snarled, cupping an arm under my aft in a crudely made seat. I giggled, relishing the strength of my gladiator. I waved to the crowd, my denta glistening white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soundwave ignored the warning. “If you send your army to Crystal City, they will fall. As of now, the success rate of wiping out the senate has fallen to less than ten percent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron cursed, lowering his arm until I slid from my perch. “How recently did you receive these estimations?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two kilks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron snarled fiercely, fist smashing against the railing. A chunk of titanium fell crashing to the hanger floor. “My victory will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be denied!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One possibility remains unacknowledged,” Soundwave interjected. “Operation: Feral.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feral?” Skywarp heckled. “You folk sure do come up with some </span>
  <em>
    <span>strange</span>
  </em>
  <span> nicknames.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Silence</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Megatron snapped, optics blazing. Skywarp cowered, ever so slightly, and backed away. He had tamed Skywarp almost as easily as he had tamed me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s attention returned to his subordinate. “What are our chances of success with Operation Feral?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could have sworn a twinkle danced across Soundwave’s visor. “According to my simulations, the chance of success increases to eighty percent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how </span>
  <em>
    <span>confident </span>
  </em>
  <span>are you in these… </span>
  <em>
    <span>simulations</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron, if my simulations were inaccurate,” Soundwave vowed, “I would not waste your time with the promise of success.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron paused, a thousand thoughts running through his processor. I could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> how desperately he wanted this assault to happen. No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> this assault to happen. He brought the microphone to his lips. “If we are to succeed, sacrifices must be made. A pureblood seeker must come forward, a seeker willing to offer their biology to a greater cause. Who among you will lead the assault on Crystal City?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Below us, hundreds of servos raised without hesitation. I pushed past Skywarp, placing myself between the commanding Decepticons. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wait just a moment! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Would someone tell me what </span>
  <em>
    <span>Operation Feral</span>
  </em>
  <span> is?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thick digit ran back and forth along Megatron’s chin. “Soundwave has mentioned it before, if I recall correctly. He has been developing a transformative program, one that calls upon seeker ancestry, one that would change a seeker’s biology in order to bring about a more ...</span>
  <em>
    <span>animalistic </span>
  </em>
  <span>aptitude. Allegedly, the changes are </span>
  <em>
    <span>permanent</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If this program is to succeed, the altered seeker would become the most savage predator on Cybertron, and perhaps one of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span> ways to ensure Decepticon victory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A warning of consideration,” Soundwave cut in. “Rushing a permanent transformation is likely to present </span>
  <em>
    <span>numerous </span>
  </em>
  <span>adverse effects. However, the Autobot forces grow with every passing astro second. If Operation Feral is utilized, a seeker must be changed within thirty kilks, or failure is all but guaranteed. The survival of such a rash alteration is not guaranteed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>survival of-</span>
  </em>
  <span> Megatron, you can’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>serious</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” I bellowed, jabbing a digit into his breastplate. Megatron’s servo whipped over mine, almost crushing it. I winced, struggling to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>less </span>
  </em>
  <span>serious,” Megatron growled, twisting my servo as he released me. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>aware</span>
  </em>
  <span> of your race’s dissent for forced choices. That is why I call upon a </span>
  <em>
    <span>volunteer</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The seeker who steps forward will have done so by their </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My helm snapped back. “Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>slag</span>
  </em>
  <span> you will!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker stepped up to the trio of commanders, arms spread. “You wanted Starscream to reach our sparks, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This won’t be the first time my body has been altered for the greater cause. I volunteer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron smirked, walking away. “Very well. Soundwave, Thundercracker, with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched in awe as Thundercracker passed by, coming to my senses as his wing brushed by. I reached forward, claws digging into his shoulder, and yanked him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t let you do this even if it meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>guaranteed success</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” I hissed, pushing him back against the railing. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stand down</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Thundercracker!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thundercracker twisted out of my grasp, yet I shoved him back once more. Our vocalizers snarled fiercely, optics locked. I wasn’t quite sure what was happening. My wings hitched, adding to my stature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stand. Down</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I growled, claws drawing energon from his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We stood in tense silence, grappling wordlessly for domination. Thundercracker broke the gaze, his optics falling. Always the victor, I released his arms, returning to Megatron’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” I crossed my arms. “Soundwave </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>we have less than thirty kilks. Are we doing this or </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Follow my Twitter @gupybot for updates! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Purgatory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In order to wipe out the Senate, Starscream offers his body to Operaton Feral. Although successful, the rushed procedure subjects Starscream to a set of horrifying hallucinations.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Megatron huffed a sign of approval, waving his servo to Soundwave. “Beckon our medics,” he ordered gruffly. “Have the operation room prepared for Starscream’s arrival. And have Blitzwing run a final ammunitions check. I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>Decepticon at the ready.” The hanger door shut behind us before my trine could attempt to follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We strode through the warship, lights buzzing as we crossed the halls leading to our medbay. I swallowed my trepidation, knowing I had exchanged one operation table for another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron sensed the fear running through my spark. “I’m proud of you,” he said, optics locked before us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked up, optics widening. “I think that’s the first time you’ve.... Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a special mech, Starscream,” he praised. “From the moment I first saw you in the arena, I knew you were born to succeed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My smile faded, and I realized those words no longer summoned joy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The medbay was brimming with medics. We stepped through a scanner, disinfected as we watched a restoration chamber lower from the ceiling, filling with energon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A cryogenic restoration pod?” I glanced to Soundwave. “Is that necessary?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The rushed changes will no doubt cause significant damage,” he explained, tone unreadable as ever. “The energon will repair your injuries as they occur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>lovely</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I whined, shutting my optics. “Thanks for the image.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t feel anything,” Megatron grumbled. “You’ll be unconscious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inner sealing released, allowing us to step into the bustling medbay. The attention shifted entirely onto me and a medic led me to the restoration pod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t wear jewelry in there,” he said, reaching for my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked down, digits running over Sentinel’s necklace. I had forgotten I was wearing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sentinel gave this to me,” I stammered, fumbling for the clasp, “just before he tried to have me </span>
  <em>
    <span>castrated</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Megatron, will you do me a favor and </span>
  <em>
    <span>return</span>
  </em>
  <span> it to him when you reach the Capitol?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never one to back down from a challenge, Megatron chuckled and reached forward, releasing the clasp. “It would be my </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasure</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I accepted the medic’s servo as I stepped into the pod, warmed energon soothing my aching legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soundwave, how different will Starscream appear when he emerges?” Megatron took my trembling arms, perhaps in a miner’s attempt to soothe my nerves. I shivered as I settled into the cushions, though it wasn’t from the temperature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Limbs and claws will extend, and overall height is expected to increase, though not substantially. A drastic increase in hearing quality should occur,” Soundwave explained, protecting a barrage of information on the wall. I kept my audials above the fluid line, disturbed by how blindly I had agreed to such drastic changes. “The majority of changes will be found subconsciously, in his programming. An aversion to sunlight can be expected, due to an increase in retinal curvature, and an increase in nocturnal activity as well. Night vision will improve substantially, though it sacrifices peripheral vision to an unknown extent. Attitude alterations are all but expected, including a growth in tension between trine ranks. Heat cycles will increase in frequency, as well as duration.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That seems a bit </span>
  <em>
    <span>personal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, don’t you think?” I growled from the pod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A seeker is never harder to control than during a heat cycle,” Soundwave corrected, “yet they make up for this through a substantial increase in strength and durability. This will prove useful in battle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron smirked, digit on his chin as he looked back at me. “I see no issue with a prolonged heat cycle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fluid pooled in the corner of my optics. “Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> really the time to make fun?” My servos trembled as they clutched the side of the pod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron walked up to me, taking my servo in his own. “Perhaps you’re right,” he mumbled, the closest I would get to an apology. He kneeled beside the pod, cupping my helm in his palm. “Lay back. The more time you have to change, the better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lowered my helm, but panic began to overwhelm my spark. “Do you… Do you promise I won’t feel anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not physically,” Soundwave acknowledged, scrolling through the projection. “Though such a rushed transformation could potentially cause hallucinations.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt my turbines kick to life, my vents hyperventilating. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wonderful</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I whimpered, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>now </span>
  </em>
  <span>you tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron shushed me, a firm servo pushing me down. “Relax,” he whispered. “He said it </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even through my growing panic, I knew he was lying. I swallowed, my throat desperate for energon, and shut my optics. I just wanted to get this over with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to get started,” the medic to my right insisted. “We’re running out of time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron reached down, placing a tender kiss on my cheek. Those were the years when he still had the ability to feel empathy. Our optics met as tears streaked down my face, mixing with the restorative energon. “Thanks to your bravery,” he praised, his palm wiping my cheeks, “we will be free of this cruel senate before sunrise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, optics fluttering shut. I allowed myself to lay back, relieving myself of the chilled medbay air as the fluid pooled over my nose. Through the energon, I heard the pod door shut, sealing me away from the world. I took a slow breath, energon flooding my system, and found comfort in the weightlessness of the tank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voices faded. The clock in my processor tracked the kilks as they passed. I began to wonder if the program had even started.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is easier than I thought</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I thought to myself conceitedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron?” I asked, feeling energon pour into my mouth. “Aren’t I supposed to pass out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I waited for an answer, yet none came. My optics fluttered open, and I realized I was nowhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>near</span>
  </em>
  <span> the medbay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was standing. That is, at least I </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was. I looked down, searching for a floor, for walls, for any sense of structure. Instead, I found myself standing in a black expansion, devoid of any traces of matter. I looked up, searching for the window of my restoration pod, yet the blackness ran endlessly, dousing me in darkness. I reached out, flipping my servos before me. The lines of my body blurred as they moved, lagging as they spun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I whispered, flexing my digits. Soundwave said my claws would extend, yet they looked just the same as when I had stepped into the medbay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I stood, mesmerized by the lag of my movements, the familiar clang of a jar lid echoed behind me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I spun on my thrusters, looking back. “Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To my utter bewilderment, a seeker sat perched before a vanity. A polishing lid had fallen beside them. The lines of their body were far sharper than mine, though they wiggled as they struggled to take shape. The seeker grew and shrank, widened and narrowed, ever so slightly. I began walking towards them, though I quickly found I wasn’t getting any closer. I watched as their color shifted, reds, blues, purples, and grays, and smiled as an unexpected surge of adoration flooded my spark. I realized that, even without a proper form, this was by far the most beautiful seeker I’d ever laid optics on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” they spoke, voice fluctuating rapidly in pitch, as if more than one mech was speaking, “you finally came to see me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My grin faded. “I’m sorry, but I’m not even sure I know you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t,” they confirmed, arm rocking as they applied polish to a face I couldn’t see. “Not yet, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How curious,” I remarked. Though I wasn’t coming any closer to the seeker, I realized their polish lid had slid up to me. I reached down, picking it up with blurred digits. “I believe you dropped this.” I studied the lid, smiling as I recognized the label. “Spectra. You have good taste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do,” the seeker chuckled, their tone marked with pride. “You only would’ve given me the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would have?” I paused, looking up from the lid. “What do you mean?” I looked down, watching the tin cap disintegrate in my palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seeker huffed, as if I had been expected to understand. “I’m afraid things have changed too drastically,” they murmured gently, disappointed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s changed?” I laughed nervously, walking forward, though I knew by now I wouldn’t be able to reach them. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seeker hummed, reaching for a folded buffing cloth. “I think you already know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched as they buffed what must have been polish on their cheeks. “You’re not supposed to rub side to side,” I corrected sternly. “You’ll dull the shine that way. Try buffing in circles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their servo paused just before moving in sloppy circles. “Thanks,” they whispered. “No seeker wants a dull face on the day of their trining ceremony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, how sweet,” I beamed, clutching my servos before me. “You met your trine today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually,” they mumbled, “I’m just pretending. I’m afraid I’ll never actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>get</span>
  </em>
  <span> to meet my trine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I frowned. “Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seeker paused, dropping the buffling rag. It fluttered to the ground, sizzling as it faded into thin air. The stool creaked as the seeker turned back, their optics meeting mine, and I gasped as I recognized Thundercracker, Skywarp, and my own face on one breathtaking seeker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you didn’t protect me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I feel to my knees, servos bracing against the nonexistent floor below me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>you?” I breathed, tears defying the laws of gravity as they pooled over my optics. I reached up, wiping them away with trembling servos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seeker stood, their vanity already losing form. “It seems our time together is up,” they whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I gasped, watching in horror as their frame began to fade. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t go. We can stay here, in this </span>
  <em>
    <span>place</span>
  </em>
  <span>, we can stay here as long as we need!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seeker turned away, wings lowering as the atoms of their body fragmented. “I wanted to stay.” The disembodied voice faded along with their gleaming jars of polish. “I stayed as long as I could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cried out as something ripped through my abdomen, reflectively placing pressure on the wound. I looked down as my servo pulled away, expecting cables and wires to come pouring out. Instead, I found a perfectly intact midriff, marked only by muddled polish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shut my optics, pulling my knees towards my cockpit. I wasn’t sure where I was or what I had seen, and I certainly didn’t know how long this would last. I opened my palm, projecting my clock into the darkness. The hands spun in an uncontrolled spiral. I dug my face into my knees, wondering if this was the same place Jetfire had gone when he crashed on that planet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I hugged my knees, floating through what felt like sheer and utter nothingness, I suddenly became aware of the light pouring through my legs. My optics opened, daring to look up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except, it wasn’t. Snow fell onto my arms, coating me in gentle purity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you hand me that corkscrew cap?” a familiar voice rang behind me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked back, legs extending as I uncurled myself. Jetfire kneeled over the snow, tenderly scooping shards of ice into a rubber tube. His left arm hung dangling by a cable, swaying in the nonexistent breeze. Energon spilled from his pulverized cheek, exposing cracked and bloodied denta. Energon spilled freely from his mouth, staining pink on the snow beneath him. My lip trembled, watching as his right leg finally fell from his hip. It fell through the ice, vanishing to obscurity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he chuckled, looking back. “I’ll get that later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jetfire,” I whimpered, “I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?” His optics remained locked on his work. “For leaving me behind?” He reached up, shoving a tattered wing out of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed, my breath shaking. “I looked for you. I really did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, for an </span>
  <em>
    <span>evening</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he chortled, sealing the tube with his thumb. “Can you pass me that cap now? I don’t want this specimen to melt.” My spark dropped when he looked at me. A shard of rock had lodged itself into his helmet, crushing what was once his left optic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he cooed. “You see me every time you try to sleep. What makes now any different?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My servos trembled as I reached for the cap in question, digging it out of the snow and brushing it off as I handed it to him. Like a lily pad, it hovered in the pooling energon of his palm as he accepted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you’re a Decepticon now,” he mentioned as he sealed the rubber tube, tucking it securely in a mutilated cargo hold. “You really went downhill after I died, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rubbed my palm, unable to meet his glaring optic. “They’re not what you think. We only want freedom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Freedom? How do you gain freedom with a mech who’s spent the last three hundred years slaughtering his brothers?” Jetfire settled on his heels, typing data into a tablet. “Last I heard, he made over a </span>
  <em>
    <span>trillion</span>
  </em>
  <span> quid through gladiatorial gambling. That doesn’t sound like pure intentions to me. Did I really raise you that poorly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you didn’t. You raised me perfectly fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Jetfire looked up from his tablet. “Then why are you so cruel to everyone you love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I reached up, wiping tears from my lips. “You’re not real,” I whispered. “Soundwave said I’d see things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a smart mech, little one.” Jetfire pulled an axe from his leg and began digging at a boulder beside him. “But I think you’re wrong this time. I think you know I’m right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I forced myself to breathe, unaware that I’d been holding it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you how disappointed I am in you. You’ve really let me down, Star.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I whimpered, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jetfire. I’ve… I’ve missed you so much. I think- I think about you every </span>
  <em>
    <span>moment </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>awake</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” My words slurred, clouded by sharp inhales. “It’s okay if you’re mad at me. Can’t we just sit together? Just for a little while?” I reached down, searching for tools in the snow. “What can I help with? Let me help, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid our time is up,” Jetfire sighed, magnetizing the axe to his hip. “Soundwave just finished. Megatron’s already loving your new legs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to go,” I whispered. “I want to stay with you. If I die in Crystal City tonight, can I see you again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jetfire shook his helm, dislodging the rock in his optic. It fell to the snow with a heavy thud. “For </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span>, face your responsibilities, Star. You have an army to lead, and it’s time you got back to reality.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm desperately, crawling up to Jetfire. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t send me away,” I sobbed, clutching to his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jetfire let out a slow exhale, wrapping his remaining arm around me. “I think you know Megatron isn’t what he says he is,” he said, petting my helm with a tender servo. “I think you know how badly tonight will go for all of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dug my face into his shoulder. “It’s too late to leave,” I whimpered. “I want to go home, Jetfire. I just want to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can still earn my forgiveness, you know,” Jetfire whispered, laying his cheek on my helm. “Then you can join me, if you still want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?” I looked up, wiping my optics. “How could I </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> fix what I’ve done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jetfire kissed my forehead, energon pouring from his lips and trickling down my nose. “Take command of the Decepticons. Win this war. Then, you can come back to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My helm fell, shaking side to side. “Megatron is too strong. I could only take command of the Decepticons if I killed him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a smart mech, Star,” Jetfire chuckled. “You’ll find a way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I raised my helm to speak, yet the snow had melted. The mountains around us had vanished. The light faded, swallowed by the nothingness. I searched for Jetfire, but he had left me behind, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jetfire?” I gasped, standing up, spinning on my pedes as I searched desperately for my friend. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jetfire</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron yanked me up out of the energon pool, slapping my cheek as I regained consciousness. Energon spewed from my mouth as I hacked violently, splattering his breastplate as it flew from my turbines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s awake,” he announced, cradling my wings and legs as he pulled me from the restoration pod. “Soundwave, how are his vitals?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steady,” Soundwave reported, assisting Megatron as they forced me to stand. I gasped for air, my legs refusing to hold. I fell forward, stopped only by Megatron’s bracing arm. “Though his fuel pump struggles to power his processor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron held me against his breastplate, shaking gently to stir my consciousness. My helm fell to the side as I coughed, clearing the last of the energon from my body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Megatron,” I whimpered, clutching weakly to his shoulders. “Please, don’t rush the other seekers through Operation Feral. I-I saw-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” Megatron soothed, wiping a towel across my face. “You have my word.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My neck gave out and Megatron caught my helm as it fell back. I had never felt so drowsy, so weak. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into berth between my trine and fall asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Find a way to </span>
  <em>
    <span>wake him up!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Megatron bellowed, his desperate tone piercing my audials. I winced, denta grinding against each other. When had his voice become so </span>
  <em>
    <span>deafening</span>
  </em>
  <span>? When had lights become so </span>
  <em>
    <span>intense</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing we can do medically,” a medic insisted, joining his colleagues as they scrubbed the restorative energon from my body. “We’ve never seen a permanent transformation rushed so drastically. It could take a full </span>
  <em>
    <span>solar </span>
  </em>
  <span>cycle before his processor clears.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> a solar cycle,” Megatron hissed. “Soundwave, comm Scrapper. Tell him to bring dark energon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my helm meekly, fighting fruitlessly against Megatron’s grasp. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” I gasped silently. “Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> put that filth in my body!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you can wake up by the time Scrapper gets here,” Megatron promised, “you will not be given dark energon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My breath heaved, ragged and laboured. We waited in silence, medics frozen in wonder as their optics studied what must have been my altered body. I blinked rapidly, forcing myself to look directly into the lights, willing my processor to kick into gear. It wasn’t enough. The door slid open, gases sanitizing a ruffled looking Scrapper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here you go, boss,” he said, opening his box of boosters. “I’m not sure how much to give him, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me three of those vials,” Megatron ordered, reaching out. “Give them to me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Three</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Hook paused, his servo hovering over the box. “That’s enough to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> high. I really don’t think giving a seeker that mu-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ENOUGH!” Megatron barked. “Medic, prepare an injection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My helm shook, a last attempt to deter his orders. “No,” I whimpered. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The medic picked a cable in my neck, looking to Megatron for approval. He looked down at me, and for a moment, I saw regret in Megatron’s optics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it,” he grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I whined as the syringe pierced my neck, listening to the fluid squeeze into my system. Within moments, I felt as if a train had hit me. I cried out, fear mixed with rage, and threw my fists into the medic’s abdomen. They were sent stumbling back, falling to the floor with a cry. Megatron released me as I stood, scrambling to steady myself as the raw surge of power electrified </span>
  <em>
    <span>every atom in my body</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My panting was ragged as I clutched my neck, claws sharper than the day I was born.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Megatron,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I growled, optics ablaze, as I settled on extended thrusters, my height noticeably increased, “what did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have given you a chance to emerge as a fully fledged Decepticon,” Megatron contended, stalking towards me. “Tonight, you are truly born.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His approach frightened me. I lashed out, claws digging through his breastplate. He let out a cry of agony, clutching the scars with a drenched palm. Never before had I even come </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span> to leaving a mark, and I had just sliced through Megatron’s armor like silk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream is now the most lethal seeker on Cybertron,” Soundwave remarked, pointing to the window of the medbay. “I recommend his immediate departure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron growled, reaching down and picking up a stool with one servo. He swung it forward into the window. The stool crumbled as it shattered the glass, tumbling to the Kaon towers below. Cool wind poured in. My turbines welcomed the smell, wings rising as they </span>
  <em>
    <span>begged</span>
  </em>
  <span> for flight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starscream, you will go to Crystal City,” Megatron ordered, his breath coming in strained inhales. “You will enter the Capitol through the hearing room, and you will kill </span>
  <em>
    <span>every mech in sight</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Energon leaked from my mouth, dripping onto my cockpit. I snarled, my lips curling into a morbid grin. “With </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasure</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The medics leapt back as I kicked the operation table out of my way. It collided with the shelves, sending vials and bottles of unknown use crashing to the floor. Shards of glass crunched under my slender pedes as I climbed the window pane, blasting off to Crystal City, and leaving my humanity in tatters.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Follow my Twitter @gupybot for updates! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Ea Incipit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The senate has been dismantled and the war begins. Starscream learns that it did not come without consequences.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em> ... Star?... Starrr… </em>”</p><p>My helm turned to the side, mushing into something pliable and warm. I groaned without breath, bawling my fists, though my grip yielded when freshly honed claws threatened to pierce my own palms.</p><p>Somewhere beside me, Skywarp’s voice whispered gently into my audial. “Star? Are you waking up?”</p><p>The ridges over my optics furrowed in displeasure, pulling what felt like a pillow over my face. “I am <em> now </em> . Could someone <em> please </em> dim the lights?”</p><p>I sighed drowsily as the bedside chair creaked under Skywarp’s wings. He must have reached back to dim the lights. Only then did I pull the pillow away from my stinging optics. In all my stellar cycles, not even my strongest hangovers had left me so incapacitated.</p><p>My neck strained as I gazed about the room. I had been placed in some kind of recovery room. Neatly made medberths strung with cables and vital trackers lined the wall, several recently used. Along the opposing wall, a continuous window pane had been installed, cracked in one corner to let in fresh air. The Kaon horizon gleamed below us, busier than I’d ever seen it before. Decepticon insignias lined the towers, some painted, some carved. Seekers and shuttles whizzed by, grounders stalling in traffic below. Without my notice, Kaon had become… well… a <em> city </em>. It dawned on me that I’d been asleep for quite some time.</p><p>“Sky,” I groaned, pulling the blankets up to my neck when a chill tickled my shoulders, “how long was I out?”</p><p>Skywarp reached forward, tucking the blankets under my arms, a sloppy attempt at affection. “Only a few solar cycles,” he murmured impassively, as if my time in recharge hadn’t been much more than a nap. “Megatron said to let you wake up on your own, that your transformation needed to finish up. You look <em> killer </em>, by the way.”</p><p>My servos slid from the blankets, turning before my optics. Indeed, the transformation was complete. My claws flexed with my digits, slender and sharper than ever before. My arms and palms had narrowed as well. In fact, just about every part of me had narrowed or extended in one way or another. Unfamiliar digits slid down my figure, rolling over noticeably thinner legs. “I guess I got those leg extensions I always wanted,” I mumbled under my breath.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Nothing.” My optics, now acutely aware of every speck of light in Kaon, absorbed Skywarp’s new frame. “You look different, too.”</p><p>Skywarp’s pride took demand, pulling him out of his chair and into a spin. Violet claws traced along the edge of his considerably wide wings. “You like them? I fell asleep for half a solar cycle, and when I woke up, I’d grown! And I mean <em> everything </em> grew…”</p><p>“<em> Stop it </em>,” I hissed, chuckling as I bat his arm with my pillow. Our laughter faded, Skywarp sliding back into his seat. I looked down, pleasantly surprised as he pressed his palm against mine. Our digits explored as they interlocked, so foreign to us now. Somewhere in the ceiling, chilled air began to pour through the warship vents. Skywarp tucked the blanket under my chin.</p><p>“I’m really glad you’re okay, Star,” Skywarp murmured tenderly. “I saw you in the Capitol. It was hard to focus after that. Do you remember when Megatron had me teleport you back to the ship?”</p><p>I frowned, helm shaking as I dug through the banks of my memory. “Actually, no. I can’t… seem to remember any of it.”</p><p>“You were quite the sight.” Skywarp’s optics drifted to the window, though his thoughts were far from Kaon. “As soon as you left for Crystal City, we were ordered to follow and cover. Every one of us, right behind you. Thundercracker could barely keep up with you. Actually, no one could keep up with you. I guess the operation makes seekers a whole lot faster. You flew like you were on <em> fire </em> . Like you were on a mission. Well- I guess we <em> were </em> on a mission- <em> Anyway </em> , we got to the Capitol, and I’m pretty sure you used just about every missile you had on that ceiling. I’ll tell you what, Crystal City could <em> never </em>put on a fireworks show like that!”</p><p>“Skywarp, <em> focus </em>. What happened to the senate?”</p><p>Skywarp’s grin faltered, sighing as he cocked his helm. “We… Well, <em> you </em> , nailed more than half of them. Pretty much all of our focus was on keeping Sentinel <em> away </em> from you, and when I tell you he <em> wanted </em> you… I’ve never seen a mech madder than that. By the time Megatron showed up, we were seconds from being overpowered, but when he <em> did </em> - <em> Hoh </em> , was he scary. He went <em> straight </em> for Sentinel. Even though we all wanted to kill each other, just about everyone stopped to watch the fight. For a long while, they were a pretty even match. Megatron took one chunk. Sentinel took another. I actually began to think the fight could go either way, win or lose. Then… Megatron- He pulled out this <em> necklace </em> . I don’t even know where he got it, or <em> whose </em> it was, but when Sentinel recognized it… Well, Megatron took the shot. He blasted a hole right through Prime’s spark. Somehow, that slagger survived it, and the two of ‘em had a little <em> chat </em> .” Skywarp paused to laugh, covering his mouth in morbid amusement. “Let’s just say Megatron brought home a <em> souvenir </em>.”</p><p>I grit my denta, wishing Skywarp would take the gravity of his story more seriously. I sat up, clenching his servo tightly. “So, the senate is- They’re dead? We won?!”</p><p>I wasn’t sure if it was the question or the tone, but the laughter faded from Skywarp’s coy grin. His optics clouded, sighing quietly. “I…guess you could say that. The senate’s dead, but… I don’t think this fight’s going anywhere soon.”</p><p>“What… What does that mean?”</p><p>Skywarp paused, and then he looked at me in a way that I’m not sure I’ll ever forget. “The Autobots have declared war. And they’re a lot bigger than we thought. Megatron’s locked himself up in the bridge with Decepticon command. No one can reach him. Last night, he told us to… drop all thoughts of the future, to devote ourselves to the present moment. I think we might be fighting for… a while.”</p><p>There’s a feeling, a physical feeling, when you realize: You knew all along. You knew you were making a mistake. You knew you were in over your head. And yet, you ignored it. Every pause in your step. Every pang of fear, of regret, as you drifted off to sleep each night. That was your body, your soul, telling you to turn around and <em> run </em> . To run as far as you can and never look back. And you realize… You ignored it, and there’s no one you can blame, no one you can confess to. You. <em> You </em> . <em> You did this </em> . <em> And now you have to fix it. </em></p><p>“Star?” Skywarp whispered, “how long do you think until we can go home?”</p><p>I looked down, watching the cabling in his wrist rock as energon coursed through his body.</p><p><em> If I can keep this spark of yours alight </em> , I promised, hoping my words would somehow make contact in his spark, <em> if you can just… hold on, for just a little longer, I swear on my life that I will somehow make this up to you. To all of you. </em></p><p>My chin tipped back as Skywarp came forward, meeting his lips somewhere in the darkness. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t heard me, or if, at some distant moment, my promises became obsolete. I would remember them for him. All they had to do was <em> hold on </em>.</p><p>“Oh,” a timid voice whispered in the doorway, “I’m sorry. I’ll come back.”</p><p>Skywarp drifted back, turning to smile at a charcoal seeker clutching the door frame.</p><p>“They said you were finally awake,” she murmured bashfully.</p><p>“I’m still learning names,” Skywarp chuckled. “Mind telling me yours?”</p><p>The seeker smiled, though I doubt she would have without Skywarp’s cordial disposition. “You’re Skywarp of Vos,” she replied. “My name is Eclipse.”</p><p>My lips parted, arms reaching for the charcoal seeker without a moment’s hesitation. “I held you when you were only cycles old,” I beamed warmly. My servos spun towards me. “Come. Come.”</p><p>Eclipse paused, optics widening. Clearly, she didn’t remember our initial meeting. She stepped forward, looking to Skywarp for reassurance. He nodded, and I sighed happily as she accepted my invitation. Before she could fight me, I yanked her onto the berth, her legs hanging awkwardly off the edge.</p><p>“<em> Uh </em>,” She giggled, “This is so different than how Crossfire described you.”</p><p>I released the seeker as soon as I had the chance to cherish her familiar smell. It seemed I hadn’t learned to appreciate the smell of a familiar face until mere solar cycles ago. “And how <em> did </em> he describe me?”</p><p>Eclipse rubbed her palms together, struggling to ease her surprise. “He said you got them into Eclipse Park on the first try.”</p><p>I grinned, helm falling back into my pillow. “Of course. You know, he had told me he was a <em> frequent flyer </em> . Turns out, his definition of frequent flyer is more like frequent <em> spectator </em>. Where is he, anyway?”</p><p>Eclipse’s rubbing slowed in her lap. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. They told me to come see you if… anything happened.”</p><p>My optics hardened. “If something happened? What happened?”</p><p>“They joined you in Crystal City on the night the senate fell. I haven’t been able to reach them since then.”</p><p>It’s one thing to have a soldier ask you when he can go home. It’s another thing to have their sparkling ask you where you sent your family.</p><p>My optics flashed to Skywarp. “Sky, do you have a list of casualties from the Capitol?”</p><p>Skywarp fumbled with his communicator, knocking over his chair as quickly as he stood. “I- Uh, let me see what I can do. I’ll ping Megatron.”</p><p>We waited for what felt like an eternity, sitting in silence as a seeker I once knew as a frail newborn waited to see if her sire would be coming home tonight. Just about all of us jumped when Skywarp’s arm beeped.</p><p>“Send it to me,” I ordered, flicking my wrist. I opened the list, scrolling through names I’d never heard nor seen, and prayed to Primus that I wouldn’t see-</p><ul>
<li>CROSSFIRE (VOS): deceased, remains recovered</li>
<li>ACE (VOS): deceased, remains partially recovered</li>
</ul><p>I inhaled slowly, turbines slowed to a halt. “Eclipse, did Dropcloud come to Crystal City as well?”</p><p>The seeker shook her helm, straining to see the list on my arm. “Dropcloud passed about a vorn after I was born.”</p><p>Skywarp didn’t have to see the list to understand. Our optics met, and I began to better understand exactly what my role as Air Commander would entail.</p><p>“Skywarp,” I whispered, “bring me my bag, will you?”</p><p>My trinemate slid from the door before I could even finish my sentence.</p><p>“Why? What did you see?” Eclipse implored, watching him leave.</p><p>My servo settled on the sparkling’s, warming it between my palms. “Eclipse, sparklet, will you look at me?”</p><p>“What’s going on?” The sparkling blinked, reduced to little more than a spark. She was young, but she knew what had happened.</p><p>“Your guardians did not survive the battle,” I whispered.</p><p>Eclipse met my optics for a moment, her breaths growing rapidly. She slid from the berth, watching her digits as they intertwined.</p><p>“They said I was grown up now. That I could be on my own. I knew they were free to make their own decisions, but-”</p><p>I recognized her calm demeanor. I had faced shock before. I recognized its legitimacy in protecting a crippled spark.</p><p>“Do you have family you could stay with? Siblings?”</p><p>“I… I have a cousin in Iacon. We haven’t seen each other since- since we were sparklings-”</p><p>Skywarp slipped in, reading the room in silence as he placed my bag beside me. I reached in, pulling out a golden pin.</p><p>“Eclipse, I want you to do me a favor,” I said.</p><p>“What?” She looked up, her fumbling digits pausing. “What- What favor?”</p><p>I reached out, taking her servo in mine. I flipped it open, placing my graduation pin in the center of her palm.</p><p>“On the southern edge of Vos, near the energon pools, there’s a pawn shop named <em> Stoneburn’s Pawn </em>. I want you to sell this pin, grab your cousin, pack a bag, and find a space transport that will take you out of the galaxy. Can you do that for me?”</p><p>Eclipse studied the pin in her servo, as if it were made of tinfoil. “This is your valedictorian pin,” she murmured. “I can’t… This is special.”</p><p>I shook my helm, folding her digits to cover it. “No, this is an <em> object </em>. If you do not take it, it will sit in a box in my closet and rot. Memories do not rot. Take it. Sell it.”</p><p>Eclipse blinked, her words strung as loosely as thread. “I don’t- I don’t want to leave Cybertron. I want to join the Deceptico-”</p><p>“Absolutely <em> not </em> ,” I hissed, reaching up to clutch her chin. I pulled gently until our optics were leveled. “Many stellar cycles ago, when I was about your age, I met a grounder with a charming wit and an empty promise. He took advantage of my trauma, and now, because of <em> him </em> , I tell sparklings that their guardians have perished under my command. Because of <em> him </em> , because of my <em> refusal </em> to listen to the ones who truly loved me, I have led more than two hundred <em> thousand </em> seekers into a war they cannot see. If these seekers who blindly registered as Decepticons - hypnotized by my embellished promise of freedom- pass the Kaon border, I cannot guarantee their safety. You, however, are <em> not </em> a Decepticon. And you never <em> will </em> be a Decepticon, because I will lose life and limb to make sure you never dawn this insignia. I will <em> not </em> gain another seeker under my command who registered <em> just </em> because <em> I </em> am a seeker. <em> You </em> are a seeker, and no matter how far you go, no matter how many galaxies you pass, you will always <em> be </em> a seeker. <em> No one </em> can take your ancestry from you. But for as long as I function, you will <em> never </em>be a Decepticon.”</p><p>The sparkling before me trembled, stunned by the venom in my tone. “You… You don’t want me?”</p><p>“I do not want you under my command. I do not want you as a Decepticon. I want you <em> exactly </em> as you are: a young, naive seeker with the world in her servos. I want you <em> ignorant </em> . I want you <em> foolish </em> . I want you to live your life in the way I could not. I want you making the kind of bad decisions that sneak into parties and steal capes for the chance to shine. I do <em> not </em> want you making decisions that destroy your bond and leave you in tears in the middle of the night. If your youth is stolen by the same mech who ripped my life to shreds, I would <em> never </em> forgive myself. Please, for the <em> love of Primus </em> , sell this pin, leave this planet, and go <em> live your life </em>.”</p><p>I released Eclipse from my chin, settling my servos before me on shaking palms. Skywarp reached down, taking them in warmed digits. He smiled, for he had received an apology centuries overdue.</p><p>Eclipse’s legs found their grounding and she stood, claws thumbing at the pin in her palm.</p><p>“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. I… I can do this.”</p><p>I nodded. “Yes, you can.”</p><p>She turned for the door, the shock of death erasing any thought of goodbyes from her processor. She paused, glancing back. “What if- What if the shop thinks it’s stolen?”</p><p>I smirked. “Nothing entices a seeker more than something shiny. Especially something shiny with the name of a celebrity felon on it.”</p><p>Oblivious to my crude attempt at a joke, Eclipse nodded once, optics blank as she faced what would hopefully become the rest of her life. She touched down to reality for the last time and our optics met. I smiled, for I prayed it would be the last time. With the turn of a thruster and the hope for a better tomorrow, Eclipse stepped out of my life forever.</p><p>The relief of saving a seeker from a life of agony was a bittersweet reward, yet I realized as I met Skywarp’s optic that not all was as it should be. In Skywarp’s smile, I recognized a seeker I’d failed to save. One I’d taught to buff in circles.</p><p>I swung my legs over the side of the berth, quickly flocked by a doting trinemate.</p><p>“You said Megatron locked himself up in the bridge, right?”</p><p>Skywarp blinked, steadying my arm as my back straightened. “Yeah, why?”</p><p>I reached down, flicking a piece of lint from my turbine. “A certain mech told me it’s time to get back to reality.”</p><p> </p><p>The bridge doors opened with a hiss. Megatron and Soundwave stood crouched over a projection of Cybertron, flags and blinking lights dotting the flattened map. Megatron recognized my steps almost instantly, grinning when he looked up.</p><p>“You’re finally awake,” he smirked. “You’ve healed nicely. Do a little spin for me, won’t you?”</p><p>I frowned, crossing my arms. “I’m a commander, not a <em> display </em>.”</p><p>“I see you’re enjoying the new title already.” Megatron was no fool. He knew I wasn’t here for battle strategy. “Everyone. <em> Out </em>.”</p><p>The bridge cleared without hesitation. As the door shut behind us, I wondered if I could still tear that breastplate as easily as I had in the medbay.</p><p>Megatron stalked the projection, optics locked on potential assault paths. “While you’ve been lost in your little nap, I’ve been cooped in this bridge with Soundwave planning our next move. Yet I don’t feel you’ve arrived with any intention of helping.”</p><p>“You knew all along, didn’t you?” I hissed. “You knew all along that the Autobots would declare war.”</p><p>Megatron exhaled through a chuckle, clearly amused by my brewing irritation. “Starscream, did you <em> really </em> think simply killing a senate would guarantee control of Cybertron? That we’d all part ways and return to peaceful lives like <em> nothing happened </em> ? Live <em> happily ever after </em>? I suppose Jetfire read you too many fiction stories as a sparkling.”</p><p>“<em> Don’t </em> bring Jetfire into this!” I snarled, clenching my fist before me. “ <em> Every </em> mech I knew told me to <em> stay away from you </em>!”</p><p>“And why didn’t you?” Megatron purred. “Why do you stand in the bridge of my warship, my insignia burned to your wings, and call yourself a commander?”</p><p>I glanced back, optics narrowing at the Decepticon insignias glistening on my wings. They must have branded them when I was asleep.</p><p>“I have a better question,” I growled. “If I’m so <em> clueless </em>, why did you name me Air Commander?”</p><p>The stylus in Megatron’s digits lowered, drawing a line somewhere in Vos. “You caught that, didn’t you?”</p><p>“You knew they wouldn’t submit to you. The title of Air Commander is just an illusion to gain their control.”</p><p>Megatron raised his stylus, tapping it wordlessly against his helm, and smiled.</p><p>My jaw clenched, pede stomping before me. “Seekers are <em> living beings </em> , Megatron! We aren’t a <em> tool </em>!”</p><p>“You say that, yet your biology says otherwise. Why would Primus give you such agile wings and unparalleled speed? Your people were always meant to be used.”</p><p>“I was such a <em> fool </em> !” I raged, grabbing the chair next to me and hurling it across the room. It smashed pitifully against reinforced windows, crushing a panel as it toppled to the floor. “Your words are <em> poison </em> , nothing but <em> empty lies </em> ! You say you fight for free will, yet you see my people as nothing more than <em> aerial warfare </em> ! You freed your brothers from the functionalist government just to <em> become a functionalist yourself </em>!”</p><p>“I am no <em> functionalist </em> !” Megatron snarled, his amusement coming to an abrupt end. “I have merely recognized a way to <em> utilize </em> your natural biology to <em> conquer a planet </em>.”</p><p>“<em> Ahh </em> ,” I hissed, pacing the bridge, “so it’s <em> conquest </em> you’re after, is it? Greed? <em> Glory </em> ? Well, let me <em> remind </em> you of something <em> important </em> , Megatron: I led my seekers to Kaon, and I can <em> lead them out </em>.”</p><p>“Will you now?” Megatron barked a laugh. “You truly are delusional. You <em> really </em>think you led your people to Kaon all on your own?”</p><p>My steps slowed, then halted. “What does <em> that </em> mean? Of <em> course </em> I did. But now I see I led them to the <em> wrong side </em>.”</p><p>Megatron deactivated the projection, closing the space between us as he ambled forward. “Let’s review your life thus far, shall we? He is born an orphan, left on the steps of the Vos Academy of Science, and raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, given food and shelter with no questions asked. When he graduates, he is immediately given the position of scientist, commute consisting of taking an <em> elevator </em> from the dormitories to the basement. Once again, food and shelter are given without <em> any </em> expectations of reward or thanks. Then, on the <em> second </em> night he ventures to Kaon’s gladiatorial arena, he <em> bravely </em> faces off against Cybertron’s most fearless gladiator and emerges unscathed, saving the life of a Senator and <em> instantly </em> offered the position of bodyguard. Making more money than he knows what to <em> do with </em> , he is flocked by a <em> Prime </em> and showered with riches. He leaves Crystal City, almost immediately finding his long lost trine, and has now amassed enough money to buy a small <em> village </em> . Of course, for this spoiled, <em> entitled little seeker </em> , it’s <em> still not enough </em> . He <em> leaves </em> his trine for the same gladiator he saved his senator from. He falls <em> madly in love </em> with a mech he’s known for less than a deca cycle and doesn’t think twice before committing adultery on an almost <em> nightly </em> basis. Yet he <em> never </em> gets caught, does he? No, because he’s too <em> stupid </em> to realize that the gladiator has been <em> lying </em> to him the entire time, saying whatever it takes to turn the lonely little seeker into his peronsal <em> puppet. </em>”</p><p>I hissed, shutting my optics. “<em> Stop it </em>.”</p><p>Megatron ignored my plea, walking forward until he was looming over me. “The seeker is so deprived of a parental figure that he does <em> whatever </em> the gladiator asks, including crafting a casing for a circuit booster he doesn’t even desire. He’ll do whatever it takes for another empty compliment, for another string of jewels, for another night in <em> pathetic hiding </em> from his <em> family </em> . As if it couldn’t get any better, the gladiator brings him the chance to become a delegate! And why would he refuse? He says he’ll do it, a chance to expose a Decepticon senator and infiltrate the government like some kind of <em> spy </em> . He says he’s helping Cybertron, that he’s <em> helping his people </em> . But deep down, he <em> knows </em> why he’s doing it: More <em> attention </em> . More <em> compliments </em>.”</p><p>“Stop it!” I wailed, meeting his flaring optics. “I didn’t do it for <em> attention </em>!”</p><p>“The fame is more than he ever dreamed of. <em> Finally </em> , he gets free drinks wherever he goes! All the biggest companies <em> must </em> have him, but only one company is successful enough to win his spark: Spectra Polish. Does he question <em> why </em> the owner of his <em> favorite band of polish </em> pursues him, why she offers such a ludicrous amount of money? No, <em> of course </em> he doesn’t. She wants me because I’m <em> beautiful </em> , he thinks, that’s why <em> everyone </em> wants me. The gladiator brings him <em> another </em> piece of jewelry, and just like always, he thinks it was <em> custom made </em> , because, for some Primus known reason, he equates custom made jewelry with <em> love </em> . Because <em> everyone knows </em> a mech who loves you refuses to publicly announce his adoration for you.”</p><p>Tears burned my optics, threatening to spill over. “You kept me secret because I was a delegate,” I whispered. “We weren’t ready to tell Cybertron I was a Decepticon.”</p><p>Megatron’s laughter shook the bridge. He leaned back, covering his mouth. “You truly are the most self absorbed mech I’ve ever met. You make Sentinel look like a monk.”</p><p>My fists trembled beside me. “Why are you <em> telling </em>me this?”</p><p>Megatron’s grin fell. He reached down, brushing his digits along my jaw. “You poor, intelligent little sparkling. You really don’t <em> get it </em> , do you?” He spun back, crossing his arms as he sauntered away. “I had a friend, a mech named Pyrosplitter who always asked to be called Pyro. He and I were like family, you see, even more so than our colleagues. As an energon miner, we were released a few groons early at the end of each decacycle. Most mechs slept, such as myself, but the majority took a shuttle down to Cybertron’s surface for a drink or two. Finally, after centuries of begging me to tag along, Pyro convinced me to come to Vos with him. Seekers were <em> stunning </em> , he said, I just <em> had </em> to see them. The night began just fine, Pyro and I trying to drink each other under the table, and I must admit, I was beginning to have <em> fun </em> . Then…. Here comes this… <em> seeker </em> , clueless and wandering the city like he belonged on a <em> throne </em> . Pyro <em> had </em> to know him, even when I begged him to leave the stupid thing alone, that it was <em> clearly </em> underage. Alas, he pursued him, this… <em> irritating </em> , <em> spoiled little brat </em> . It escaped, only by the arrival of its condescending little <em> guardian </em> of his. Before we even returned to Luna Two, I knew Pyro had damned himself. By morning, our superiors had caught wind of the incident, of an energon miner mingling with the likes of Cybertron’s <em> high caste </em> . They threw him on his knees, pistol at the back of his helm. Kneeling before him, I swore I would avenge him, <em> crush </em> that little seeker under my pede. Yet he refused. It wasn’t the seeker’s fault, he swore, he was too <em> young </em> to understand. I can still feel the energon as it splattered on my lip.” Megatron’s servo rose slowly, brushing his lip tenderly. “I could not bring myself to accept his last words. In my mind, the seeker may have well been holding the pistol itself. I dug for names, searching every nook and cranny of my brothers’ memories. More than a century passed, and I began to believe I had failed Pyro, that his death would be for <em> nothing… </em> And <em> then </em> , I <em> found him </em> . I recognized his optics immediately, cocked and <em> brimming </em> with vanity. The mechs around me <em> ooh </em> ed and <em> aah </em> ed, blind to his words, thinking he was <em> any scrap of genuine </em> . Yet <em> I knew what he was </em> : a delusional <em> puppet </em> who thought the world lay soiled under his aft, that he was the victor, everyone else the fool. By then, I knew my purpose. I knew I was destined to deliver Cybertron. I knew death would be too <em> generous </em> for this little <em> slagger </em> . I sent my brothers searching, digging, for each and every scrap of information they could get on this egotistical seeker. I set my traps, my lures. I <em> knew </em> he couldn’t resist a chance for fame, a chance for <em> worship </em> . It wasn’t even a vorn before he took the bait. He came to Kaon, traumatized and alone, wandering his sorry excuse for a <em> life </em> and <em> begging </em> for attention. He had just lost his guardian. It was <em> all </em> too perfect. All I had to do was <em> play the cards </em> . I showered him with jewelry, with dinner parties, with as many cliched words of adoration I could scrape from the bottom of the <em> barrel </em> . Within <em> cycles </em> , he was <em> mine to control </em>.”</p><p>I groaned, clutching my abdomen. “I’m gonna be sick,” I whimpered.</p><p>“If I were to take Cybertron, I knew I needed aerial support. One cannot bring cities to the ground without utter and complete incineration, no? I knew how his people saw him. I knew how they <em> idolized </em> him. I sent him to the senate, replacing my previous Decepticon, and sent with him the scripted tale of betrayal and underground gambling. He bought it <em> all </em> , every <em> word </em> of it. After all, I knew he <em> would </em> . With a frame like that, I knew there wasn’t any possible chance of <em> intelligence </em> . I’m sure he <em> knew </em> all along, that he was being played, yet the pathetic dependence on an older mech was already too heavily ingrained. He knew that if he lost <em> me </em> , he would have to make his <em> own </em> decisions in life. I needed exposure. I called upon a well known business owner, one a seeker could <em> never </em> resist, and I wrote the check that would save her business from bankruptcy. All she had to do was cough up a <em> lie, </em> tell the seeker he was <em> irresistible </em> , that his face was too <em> flawless </em> to fail. The seeker <em> continued </em> to do my bidding, spreading the face of Decepticons everywhere, reaching sparklings and shuttlebots and <em> anyone </em> I would need for this war. Now, thanks to this seeker and his <em> disturbing hunger for praise </em> , I have not only gained more aerial support than the Autobots could ever <em> dream </em> of conquering, but also the unyielding loyalty of five hundred <em> thousand </em> seekers, just as <em> stupid </em> as their leader, beating their cockpits in a blind illusion that they are somehow <em> freeing </em> themselves of oppression. All it took was a fistful of jewelry and a <em> seeker </em>.”</p><p>I opened my mouth to fight, to scream, to cry, yet my vocalizer could only utter a whine. I fell to my knees, cradling my face in my palms.</p><p>“What have I <em> done </em>?” I wailed, slouching as my wings lowered in utter defeat.</p><p>Megatron’s pedes shook the floor as he turned back. “Why the long face, Starscream? You’ve received <em> everything </em> you’ve ever wanted. Almost a million Vosnian citizens now see you as a <em> god </em> , the seeker who <em> delivered </em> his dying race. You can’t <em> buy </em> that kind of worship.”</p><p>My servos clasped before me, as if in some kind of desperate prayer. “I’ve freed them before and I’ll free them again,” I growled. “I’ll lead them out of Kaon. I’ll bring us home.”</p><p>“Ah, <em> will you </em> ?” Megatron chuckled, walking to a module on the wall. “You keep <em> saying that </em>.” His thumb jabbed a button, releasing a screen from the ceiling. It lowered and activating, the most recent Vosnian news report flashing online. The cameras had been cut, likely the termination of any and all reports unrelated to the assault on Crystal City. Instead, banners ticked by, calling upon each and every Cybertronian to report encounters with suspected Decepticons. On the right scrolled the names of every known Decepticon. On the left, faces passed in split second flashes, and I recognized them immediately, the faces of Skywarp, Thundercracker, and my own.</p><p>TO BE TERMINATED UPON ARREST</p><p>“You think you can go home?” Megatron sneered, walking away. “You should have seen Thundecracker when he returned from Crystal City. He begged me to release you, sobbing on his knees like an <em> animal </em> , to send you away and forget your name.” He chuckled, covering his mouth with a curled digit. “I can’t <em> tell </em> you how much it pained me to tell him you had sworn yourself to me three hundred cycles ago.”</p><p>My denta popped as they ground against each other. I curled over, piercing the floor with dragging digits. “I’ll kill you,” I snarled breathlessly. “I’ll have you begging for mercy under my pede.”</p><p>“<em> Ugh </em> .” Megatron flicked his wrist apathetically. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard those same words. It’s getting a little <em> old </em>.”</p><p>Almost entirely disconnected from reality, I watched as the tears fell from my optics, darkening the onyx floor beneath me. “I’ll find a way. I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t <em> care </em> how long it takes. I’ll <em> kill you </em>, Megatron.”</p><p>“You might be senseless and rash,” Megatron reckoned, “but you aren’t weak, Starscream. That’s exactly why I still have yet to <em> dispose </em> of you. You’re strong. A warrior’s spirit. Even that <em> spark </em> in your chamber put up a fight.”</p><p>The world faded from my audials, dousing me in crashing waves of silence. Time slowed as I exhaled, feeling the breath flow from my lips.</p><p>“... What?”</p><p>Megatron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course you would focus on <em> that </em> . Starscream, think <em> rationally </em>. A carrying seeker cannot fulfill their duties as commander.”</p><p>My pedes found their way to the floor, steadying me as I stood. “Care to repeat that?”</p><p>“<em> Tsk </em> . Always the <em> dramatist </em>, you are. It hadn’t even had the chance to incubate-”</p><p>My digits grasped a mangled leg of the stool laying beside me. My arm swung and released, sending the metal rod straight through Megatron’s abdomen. He groaned, bracing the wound as energon spewed from his body. I wrenched another from the stool, clutching it against my cockpit as I crossed the bridge. Megatron’s servo rose to brace against me, yet I was faster. I drew back, driving the crude spear straight through his breastplate.</p><p>With the strength of a thousand seekers, my vocalizer spewed lightning as I cried, “<b> <em>I WAS SPARKED?!</em> </b>”</p><p>Megatron crushed the tile as he fell to his knees, kneeling before me. His chest heaved, energon ejected from his lips as he coughed.<br/>“There’s that <em>fire </em>I always craved,” he chuckled, wheezing below me. “You truly are a <em>sight to behold</em>. The <em>perfect</em> Decepticon-”</p><p>His mockery was cut short, silenced by agony as I yanked the bar from his abdomen. My servo rose, ready to strike whatever would bring an end to his life. His arm flashed forward, bashing against my cockpit. I gasped as I was sent flying backwards, the air struck from my vents.</p><p>“Rule <em> one </em> of gladiatorial combat,” Megatron growled, wrenching the metal from his chest, “ <em> Never falter </em>.”</p><p>I scrambled to my pedes, flicking energon from my makeshift blade. “I’ll kill you,” I whispered breathlessly. “I’ll kill you.”</p><p>Megatron stumbled as he paced, our pedes uncertain as we circled the bridge. “You want your seekers back?” He snarled. “You want your <em> life </em> back? <em> Take it. </em> Take it <em> back from me </em>!”</p><p>My servos, the same servos that had once scratched Jetfire as he held me for the first time, the same servos that had accepted drinks on my first night in Eclipse Park, the same servos that had mixed acidic chemicals in labs below the Academy, trembled as I searched for an opening. I had been trained for chemistry, for <em> science </em>, not for slaughter. Yet as I threw myself forward, vocalizer crying out for the nameless seeker wrenched from my body, I carried on my servos the energon of every mech I’d left bleeding to death in the Capitol.</p><p>Megatron swung first, knocking the rod from my grasp as easily as a stylus. He bent down, wrapping a fist around my neck, and held me dangling fruitlessly in the air.</p><p>“It’s almost <em> amusing </em> watching you fight,” Megatron grinned, digits tightening mercilessly. I yelped, listening to the familiar sound of cables snapping beneath my helm. “ <em> Almost </em>.”</p><p>My claws dug into his arm, failing to pry the armored digits out of their iron grip. “I learned from the <em> best </em>,” I hissed.</p><p>“Take a <em> good look </em> around you, Starscream. <em> This </em> is your life now. I have <em> tamed </em> you, <em> conquered </em> you, and until the day <em> every </em> Autobot has been crushed beneath my pede, you will stand beside me, doing my <em> every </em> bidding. Then, and <em> only </em> then, will I relish the light as it fades from your optics.”</p><p>I growled, finding it harder and harder to breathe, and uttered the words that would seal my fate as a Decepticon commander. “When will you realize, Megatron, that you were <em> born </em> to lose? Look at your <em> frame </em> . You’ll never be anything more than Cybertron’s <em> slave </em>.”</p><p>Megatron’s optics narrowed, and for the first time in cycles, I felt the tank dropping chill of genuine fear. The digits around my neck began to close, waves of  HUD warnings flooding my optics. My vocalizer cried for release, and I screamed in agony, electricity running through my digits and down Megatron’s arm. My cry broke shrill, echoing through the bridge as it gradually fell to nothing more than a static, piercing wail. Blackness clouded the edges of my vision, closing in like fog, as the lack of air began to deactivate my fuel pump. My optics rolled back, flooded with warnings of imminent deactivation, and I began to wonder if my reunion with Jetfire had finally arrived.</p><p>My body crumpled to the floor as Megatron’s servo released me. I gasped for air, vents opening in a fight to regain consciousness.</p><p>“You would do well to keep your wings, Starscream,” Megatron mumbled above me. “They’re the only reason I keep you <em> around </em>.” He stepped over me, energon dripping from his breastplate, and took a seat in the captain’s chair. He let out a low groan, crossing his pedes.</p><p>I forced myself to take slow breaths, struggling to control the violent wheezing of my turbines. My optics burned as fluid collected in their corners. I had condemned my people to death, to a war they couldn’t begin to comprehend. They had joined so blindly. They had <em> trusted me </em>.</p><p>“How can I… How can I live with myself?” I whimpered, my optics gazing hazily to the ceiling.</p><p>Megatron scoffed, settling his jaw on a blooded fist. “I’ve left a stack of datapads in your quarters. I suggest you start <em> studying </em> . And get that nasty little voice of yours <em> fixed </em> while you’re at it.”</p><p>I pulled myself to my pedes, wiping my lips with trembling servos. “Have I… Have I really been that <em> stupid </em>?”</p><p>Optics rolled as Megatron applied pressure to his abdomen. “You only have <em> yourself </em> to blame. Though I suppose you could attribute some of it to your sheer stupidity. After all, you haven’t made an independent decision in two hundred <em> stellar cycles </em> . Now go. Your seekers are waiting in the hanger. We depart for Crystal City at dawn. I want the Capitol <em> wiped </em>off the face of Cybertron.”</p><p>As I made my way to the door, Megatron huffed and glanced back.</p><p>“Oh, and Starscream?”</p><p>I glanced back, optics hazed with tears.</p><p>“Skywarp says you turned six hundred while you were asleep. Start <em> acting like it </em>.” The door slid shut behind me, locking with a hiss.</p><p>The rest of my life. This was it. I glanced down the main floor of our warship, watching as Decepticons passed with wide grins and arms wrapped around each other. They were just along for the ride, for the excitement. They couldn’t possibly comprehend what they had signed up for. </p><p>The hanger doors slid open as I passed through, welcoming the growing cheers of my soldiers. I reached up, wiping fluid from my optics. Never again would I crack before my subordinates. Skywarp and Thundercracker looked up, stationed together on the bridge for my arrival. They gasped, their optics locked on the energon splattered across my face.</p><p>“What <em> happened </em>?” Skywarp yelped, covering his mouth.</p><p>“This?” My palm streaked against my cheek, only spreading the streak. “Only a simple <em> brief </em> with Megatron.”</p><p>Thundercracker winced, his optics darting away from the ghoulish sight. “Your <em> voice </em>…” he whispered bitterly.</p><p>Footsteps echoed behind me. I glanced back, watching a medic cross the bridge bearing a myriad of tools.</p><p>“Megatron sent me,” he said, transforming his servo. “He said he wanted your vocalizer fixed before you addressed your seekers.”</p><p>I rose a palm, grasping his wrist as it rose to my neck. “No. Leave it. It serves as a good <em> reminder </em>.”</p><p>The crowd cried in adoration as I reached up for the microphone, wings rising, itching for their second victory. My optics fluttered shut, audials ringing as they chanted my name, over and over until the name felt foreign even to myself.</p><p>“Reminder for what?” Skywarp whispered behind me.</p><p>Jetfire’s servo closed around my shoulder. The ceiling above us folded away, revealing the brilliant stars of Cybertron. I sighed, for their beauty had left me. Somewhere, in the vast waters of space, Jetfire’s corpse lay mangled in a mountain, frozen and alone on an unknown planet. As my lips parted, promising the triumph of the Decepticon empire, I couldn’t shake the sight of Jetfire’s face if he were here now. His disappointment couldn't possibly match my own.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>PART I: END</strong>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thus ends Part 1 of Memoir of a Seeker<br/>Starscream's voice is so unique that I just had to write an origin story.<br/>man i fuckin cried writing this :/<br/>I'm going to take a break and feel how I want this war to go.</p><p>remember to follow my twitter @gupybot for updates</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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